Between Family and Friends
by astronomyluvr
Summary: While on leave stateside, Face reunites with Brian who he had met in Afghanistan, and helps him through upcoming troubles. Set after 2F2F through Fast Five. Not the best of summaries, but the story is good. Rated for torture descriptions. Please R&R! Won't be updated until after the sixth movie and marked complete for now. Enjoy.
1. Chapter 1

_Between Family and Friends_

-(_)-

Shielding his eyes from the bright Miami sun, the young man smiled at the sight of a couple of babes walking by him wearing nothing but bikini suits that barely covered their bodies. His smile grew wider when they turned to look at him once they had passed, whispering and giggling like schoolgirls. Letting them go on their way, he keyed the long since conned i-pod to a loud tune that he was sure that if he was to see the music video, there would be many scantily dressed woman dancing around in the background.

It took him the better part of an hour to get to his destination-taking the long way to get there by foot so that he could spot if he had a tail, and he smiled at the older man looking out the front window as he turned in. He walked down the rows until he came to the one he wanted. Searching the numbers took only seconds and he unlocked the large storage unit in front of him. Once the sliding door had been completely opened, he sighed, happy to know that what lay inside hadn't been disturbed since he had last been here. Taking a step in, he ran his hand over gleaming metal, letting adrenaline flood his system as he took in the sight of the beast within.

She was a sleek four wheeled design. The Mitsubishi Eclipse GTS Spyder was painted the darkest of blacks highlighted with silver and electric blue in a simple yet beautiful design. He had shipped her here a year ago after getting her from her original European owner. The bags he had long ago placed in the back seat were still there, and he opened each one to take inventory. His clothes were in great condition, if a little musty smelling-he would need to get more and give these to the nearest shelter-and the other two bags contained all the money he needed for the upcoming week. A quick count confirmed that he had all of his fifty large, more than enough for what he would need it for. He located the keys-still in a magnetic box in the wheel well-and turned the engine over, listening to the growling sound as it eased away all of his troubles.

Sliding behind the wheel, Templeton Peck grinned like a maniac. The racers of Miami would do well to be scared-the Conman was back in the game.

-(_)-

The whisperings didn't really start flying until that night, though there had been murmurs here and there. The veterans of illegal racing, having heard about the new car on the streets, refused to even race that upcoming Friday. They had been around long enough to know whose car it was, and that its driver could bleed them dry. They had tried to pass on the word to the younger generation, but most of them refused to listen, wanting to prove how good they were, if only to get a good fuck for the night.

Word hadn't yet spread through the entire city, so it was no surprise when the dark skinned young man literally jumped in surprise when he saw the car pull into the garage's parking lot. Eyeing the car-he had been given the same make and model for a brief undercover stint in order to clear his personal record-he admired the coloring and design, watching as the driver's side door opened. Now, Roman Pearce wasn't a coward by definition; he had enough smarts to know that if there was a fight with the driver of the black Spyder, he had better not bet on the other guy. There wasn't a lot of muscle on the man, and he certainly didn't look dangerous, but there was a vibe around him, and it told of a long, hard story and that violence would be an option if he was crossed in the wrong way.

"How can I help you?" he asked the other man.

"I need a tune up. I haven't used her much at all in the last year and she needs it," the man spoke in a neutral tone with a slight hint of a west coast accent, possibly from the plains or from somewhere in between.

Pearce, or Rome to his friends, eyed the stranger. It was like he was expecting the bogeyman to jump out at yell "boo!" at any second, judging by the way his baby blue eyes kept jumping around. Then he caught sight of a partially hidden tattoo on his arm, and he instantly recognized it for what it was. This customer was an Army Ranger, and he had seen enough action to leave him haunted and battle scarred.

"That we can do," he replied, watching as a bit of tension left the Ranger's shoulders. Turning, he beckoned the man and his car inside, and when the driver got out of the car for a second time, his question caught Rome by surprise.

"Can you make sure she's done for Friday night?" Ranger, as Rome's mind automatically called him, asked.

"Is there anything big going on that night?" Rome returned, handing over a couple of pages of paperwork that needed signatures. He knew what was happening Friday night-it was the weekend and therefore the start of street racing.

"I think you know about the racing," grinning, the stranger watched Rome's reactions and held out a hand before signing the forms that he had been handed. "People around here know me as the Conman, though I haven't been around much."

"Roman Pearce. A friend and I own this garage," his hand gestured vaguely around him with the returned papers, noting the name that had been signed. Who the hell named their kid "Templeton Peck?"

Face took a quick look around. "I like it-simple and yet you have enough room for multiple cars," he said.

The sound of a door slamming open and shut echoed loudly in the garage. Booted feet thumped on the concrete floor, growing nearer, followed by a crash and a vivid curse in a somewhat familiar voice.

"It's my business partner-he always gets in around this time. He loves to sleep in, especially when we get closer to the week-end," Rome told his latest customer. "Dude, get your ass out here, we got company!"

"If it's Suki, tell her to forget about me throwing away that picture-it's great blackmail material," another man's voice spoke up from the back of the room. Amongst the shuffling, the sloshing of coffee being poured into a cup could be heard, and then the ripping of several sugar packets.

"It ain't Suki, bro. It's some guy who calls himself the Conman," Rome yelled back. "Fucking sugar addict."

"Sounds like you got one hell of a problem," Face smiled as he leaned up against the counter, glad to find out that the first garage he had stopped at had people with a decent sense of humour.

"Yeah, we do. Don't get me wrong, okay. The guy can drive like no one's business, but he has this problem with eating too much sugar, or anything that has too much sugar in the ingredients. The way he eats chocolate, you'd think he was a woman going through PMS," laughing, Pearce managed to duck the flying car manual that had been chucked at his head with inches to spare.

"Fuck you, Rome," the third man said as he appeared from behind a raised Nissan, a pan collecting the dripping oil. He clutched a cup of coffee like it was a lifeline, and he looked a little pale, despite the tan that coloured his skin.

Face did a double take at the sight, recognizing who Rome's business partner was. "Brian O'Conner. So this is where you ended up after that month in the 'Stan?" he accepted the manly hug and ruffled the other man's blond hair.

"Hey, el-tee," the man who had been identified as Brian O'Conner took a gulp from his cup and looked over the black beauty standing behind the Ranger after giving the man a hug. "Is she yours?"

"Yeah, she is. I need her tuned up for Friday. I would have done it, but I don't have all the things I need, and this is the first place I stopped at," Face jingled his keys. "I also need things like a couple tanks of Nitrous and shit."

"Let's get started, then, shall we?" Brian drove the car up to one of the many empty spots in the room and then the trio got to work, filling Rome in on how the two had met what seemed like lifetimes ago.

It had happened a couple of months before the offer had been made to Rome and Brian to clear their records. At that time, Brian had been kicked off LAPD for nearly a year and in prison for nearly eleven months before some Army Intelligence guys had approached him with the offer of being shipped overseas for a minimum of thirty days in order to act as a translator-he was quite fluent in Arabic and Farsi, among other more obscure Middle Eastern dialects, as he studied them for fun and for a challenge-since they needed more people who were able to speak the local languages. Brian agreed and was shipped off in the next week after going through a quick course to find out how good his language skills were and how fit he was.

The first five weeks he was in the desert had been relatively easy, with just a few disputes among the locals to settle. On his sixth week there, things started to heat up. Sections of al-Qaeda began to get bolder and a couple of their men attacked the base where Brian had been posted. During that week, there had been word of another dispute on one of their travels, and Brian had been selected to go along with the troops and help keep the peace. They had been attacked on their way to one of the closest villages-a roadside bomb had exploded, knocking the hummer around like a toy. As both factions exchanged shots, a small group of men had snuck up on the survivors of the convoy and had taken them hostage.

The following days were rough. Many American soldiers had died from infections or executions before rescue teams came to their aid. Face had been one of the first to go into the tent that stood in the middle of the compound and had nearly tossed his cookies at the sight. Brian had been strung up like a marionette, thick chains holding his limbs in positions assured to keep them dislocated as he struggled to get away from the pain that had been inflicted on him. The next few moments were blurry to both of them; Brian from the infection and fever he was trying to fight off and Face from blanking them out-he had seen red and had attacked the former cop's tormentors, and the only clear memory of that tent that he could recall was when his team had physically restrained him somehow from castrating the last man left standing as he guarded Brian.

They had been officially introduced once Brain was out of ICU and off of the morphine that kept him loopy. The two had remained steady friends and kept in touch over the months, though they hadn't spoken much since the end of the Braga investigation.

"So, let me get this straight. You were stationed in a warzone for more than a month, and you were captured, tortured and then rescued. And then coming back here, you jumped into racing scene, got hooked up with the feds, cleared both our records and then we stole money from Miami's biggest kingpin. Anything I left out?" Rome clarified, nibbling on a granola bar as it was the only thing he could get his hands on at the time.

"I think that you got it all, man," Brian replied as he tightened a nut, listening to the sound of the engine as Face revved it up. "She sounds better, Face. Come back tomorrow and we'll finish her up. I'll talk to Tej and see about getting you some competition for Friday."

As Face drove away from the garage, Rome turned to his friend, the man's dark skin contrasting against the former cop's as he laid a hand on his shoulder. "I didn't know what had happened to you before you got us cleared, man. I knew that something bad had happened, but what you just told me never crossed my mind. If you ever need someone to talk to…" he trailed off, knowing that Brian would be able to fill in the blanks.

"Yeah, I know that I can talk to you, bro, but I kind of got over it a while ago. Still, if I ever fall back into that depressing spiral, you'll be the first to know; I'll be screaming murder at your ugly mug," Brian said, repressing some of the most disturbing memories from his time as a captive. Sometimes, it only took seeing someone's skin color to set him off, bringing flashes of memories before his eyes.

"Okay, now I declare the rest of this night to be free from chick-flick moments. How does a cold one and Chinese sound?" Rome asked, his mind turning away from the dark thoughts to his stomach.

"You and your damned metabolism," laughing, Brian sauntered over to the phone and placed an order to the closest restaurant that offered fast deliveries and great prices. It helped that the food wasn't too bad either.

-(_)-

_The cold burn of steel slicing through his skin made him cry out in pain. Struggling weakly, he tried to arc away from his tormentors, but the thick chains that kept him in place threatened to dislocated his limbs if he struggled to move. Locked in such an agonising position, he used his knowledge of Farsi to ask what they wanted. Instead of being answered, they gagged him with a strip from his own shirt and punished him by driving the blade deep into his side. The resulting pain made him struggle all the more and he screamed as he felt a shoulder and a leg pop out of their sockets. A couple more wounds later and he was starting to have trouble keeping focus from blood loss, and every time he moved, his diminishing eyesight would turn white from the pain from the knife inflicted wounds and dislocated limbs._

_A dark face suddenly loomed in front of him, hot breaths making him cringe away in disgust, and he wasn't afraid to admit it, fear. Dirty teeth were exposed as the unknown male smiled wickedly, lips stretching horribly over a too thin face, his long, bony fingers digging into one of the freely bleeding cuts. As the digits twisted just right, he found himself screaming and screaming, twisting to get away…_

-(_)-

And he fell to the ground. Panting harshly, Brian realized that he had company as he tried to push his face into the carpet. A cool cloth was draped over his heated body, bringing his temperature down and hiding the horrible scarring from his time in captivity. It took him minutes before he could even think about getting up without getting dizzy or feeling violently ill at the thought of standing. Struggling, he accepted the hand that appeared before him, identifying the arm as belonging to Tej.

"Jesus, man. I thought someone was murdering you by the way you were screaming," Tej said as he helped Brian back onto the bed. He had seen the scars that littered the other man's body and he knew that he had seen some bad shit in his life. "We could here you clear to the garage." Seeing as the garage was just a couple dozen of feet away from the boat house testified to just how loud Brian had been, given the fact that the shop had concrete walls and that there had been music playing.

Brian averted his eyes, ashamed that someone had seen him during one of his most vulnerable moments. He was ushered off to the shower and when he returned thirty minutes later, his bed sheets had been changed and a bottle of Tylenol was sitting next to a large glass of water. Tej was gone and Rome was using his laptop, surfing the internet.

"You are to take some of those pills and rest up for the rest of the day. We need you fresh for tomorrow night. I'll talk to your Conman friend and to Tej. We'll take care of everything else," the black man said, clicking the portable computer closed and setting it on the table. "I'm sorry for pressuring you into telling me what had happened to you, man."

Now Brian knew that Rome really felt bad about his newfound knowledge. It wasn't very often that he apologized. "It's not your fault. I'm sure that my nightmares would have surfaced at any time. I sometimes get random flashbacks when I see something of significance, like heavy duty chains. They remind me of the pain," Brian explained, crawling into bed and snuggling under one of the lightweight sheets. He hated the way his nightmares made him feel after waking up; tired and sluggish and the sense that he was being watched. "I never did tell you everything that happened in that tent, Rome, and I never will. There are some things that are too personal to share with others."

Nodding, Rome bid the other man a good sleep and walked away, his heart heavy. He had accused the man of being the cause behind his previous record before accepting responsibility for his actions, and now he felt helpless. What could he do to help Brian through the tough times that were bound to pop up every now and then? And what did he mean by that "There are some things that are too personal to share with others?" It indicated that something even worse had occurred to him in that damned tent, and that he was either too ashamed or too scared to tell someone else. Suddenly glad that he had bought a punching bag on impulse one day, he taped his hands up and gave himself a hard workout, feeling his anger seep out of his body with his sweat. He nearly punched the person who touched him, breaking his rhythm, but he caught himself just in time, a fist hovering in front of a semi-familiar face.

"What happened?" Face asked, trusting his instinct that told him that something had come to pass in the last little while, judging by the way that Rome was pounding away on the punching bag.

"Sorry, man. I needed to cool off before I headed into the garage," Rome jerked his thumb at the punching bag, giving an obvious explanation as to what he was doing, but not the cause. "Brian had a nightmare earlier. We could hear him clear to the garage over the music and tools. He kind of hinted that something else happened in that tent before you found him, but he won't speak up."

Face nodded. He had expected it considering how much they had spoken of the incident yesterday. "Come on, man. Let's get to work and go get him later for food," he said, noting at how Rome brightened at the mention of getting something to eat. "So, who do I have to talk to in order to get some racing done around here?"

"That would be Tej. He takes care of all the betting and organises everything. The man is crazy good with money and people," as Rome explained everything about the "home team", Face grinned excitedly, the smile making him seem years younger than he claimed to be. He was going to get some sweet action!

Tej Parker was more than happy to organize a couple of races for an old friend of Brian's, accumulating a total of six racers who were dumb enough to go against the Conman. They even made arrangements for a barbeque on Sunday with Face agreeing to provide the meat and the chef, knowing that H.M. Murdock would love to show off his unique culinary talents. He just had to remember to alert the police about the small explosions that would occur and to buy a few boxes of shotgun shells.

Excusing himself, Face found a telephone and made a call to the local military barracks where Murdock was staying for their stateside leave. Next time they were on leave, he decided, the crazy pilot was coming with him. Once he was put through, he asked if the man had no plans for the weekend, and was glad to hear that nothing was planned. Instead, Murdock would now be staying with Face for the duration of their leave, and enjoying his time cooking and causing general mayhem and driving people crazy. Face was certain that he would be able to keep Brian from thinking about the thrice damned tent in the 'Stan and keep his thoughts in the here and now. Of course, knowing the two as well as he did, he wouldn't be surprised if they started speaking in Pashtu just to confuse everyone around them.

Hours later, and while they waited for another food delivery, Face walked into the house boat, noting the drawn curtains and the gloomy atmosphere. He could barely make out the figure curled up on the bad as it shivered. He reached over with a hand to give the other man a shake on the shoulder, but he pulled back. There was no telling how Brian would react if he grabbed him in such a state. Instead, he settled for calling out the man's name until he got an answer. It took him about ten minutes before he got any sort of response; Brian's shifting alerting him to his wakeful state.

"Hey, I heard that things didn't work out well for you this morning," Face softly spoke up, taking a seat on a nearby chair, leaning forward so that he didn't have to speak so loud. "Do you need to talk about it?"

"No, I don't. I just need to have a couple of races before I close that door again," Brian muttered sleepily, turning his head so that his voice wasn't muffled by the pillow or the sheet that almost obscured his face. "You got things set for tomorrow?"

"Yeah, I got six people against me. I should be able to get a great return, depending on the buy in," Face grinned wildly. "I organized a barbeque Sunday with a friend of mine. Do you remember Murdock?" At Brian's chuckle, Face was sure that the ex-cop knew of the man he was talking about. It was hard not to remember the pilot. When their first and only brief introduction came around, Murdock was running through the infirmary tent, yelling about vegetables and ritual suicide while a large black man chased him with what looked like mashed potatoes on his face. It brightened up Brian's mood for the rest of the day, and every time he needed a mental lift, he thought of the eccentric pilot and the stories his random appearances throughout the base. "He has agreed to cook for us, but I have to inform the cops about the explosions that'll come. Murdock's a little creative when it comes to cooking. The guy can make any MRE taste like it came from a five star restaurant."

"He's got to be one hell of a cook since all MREs taste like cardboard," Brian said, grimacing as he remembered the horrible taste of the small packages of food. He could never get used to eating them whenever he was off of the base, but he forced them down so that he wouldn't lose any more weight than what he had lost during his months in prison. He frowned as he recalled the haunted look that sometimes passed through Dominic Toretto's eyes when he fell silent, and now he knew what he felt like. It had been hard for him on the inside, especially when word got around that he had been a cop, and he had spent most of the time either in the infirmary or in solitary where the guards had deemed it mostly safe, though that hadn't stopped a record seventeen attempts on his life, one successful stabbing and one near gang rape.

Face made a critical decision on the spot. "Get dressed, O'Conner. After we eat, you and I are taking a drive to the base and picking Murdock up, and then we will be getting some stuff for Sunday, and I need new clothes. Mine have been sitting in my car for nearly a year and they don't smell all that good," he said. He ignored the other man's grumbling and ushered him to get dressed and to brush his teeth. It didn't do him any good if stayed in bed and tried to sleep away the nightmares that plagued him; he needed to get out of his personal solitary confinement and out into the public where he could assure himself that he wasn't still in the Middle East.

Tej and a young woman of Japanese descent were laughing at Rome as he brought a large pile of take-out to the outdoor table, doing his best to not spill anything. The woman, who later introduced herself as Suki, brushed back her blond dyed hair over her shoulder and grabbed a couple of the cartons, lightening Rome's load and allowing him to see where he was going and assuring him that he wouldn't bump into anything. Joining them, Face grabbed a Corona, and shrugged off the responding boos about the choice of his brew. He really didn't care what kind of beer he drank as long as it had alcohol. He had smuggled a couple of six packs over to the barracks for select people, but he hadn't taken a drink for a while, especially while he was on active duty, knowing better than to divulge in case there was an attack.

Brian also grabbed a Corona but for completely different reasons than the lieutenant. It reminded him of a group of people that he had been a part of, however briefly, and that told him that they were a true family, despite what they did on the side. He ate what was placed in front of him without complaint, trying to hide his paranoia from the others. They really didn't need to know all of what had happened to him in that tent; let them live without the fear that came from living through such atrocities that were committed on one person by another because of their different religions. Instead, he let himself sink into the familial atmosphere as he took a sip from his beer, smiling on the outside.

-(_)-

It took the two men probably an hour to get to the base, noting the jumpy looks of the guards as they pulled up. When Face asked what was wrong, they had been told that one of their visitors had been up to no good, pestering everyone that he could with questions until some of them had neared their snapping point.

"That sounds a lot like Murdock," Face mumbled as Brian snickered at the sight of said pilot beating a hasty retreat from the mess hall where a man came out covered head to toe in what looked to be a flour and water mixture. The ex-cop burst into full gales of laughter when some of the mixture dripped from the man's nose, prompting Murdock to tell the man that he had better see the doctor about the apparent cold he had. A strained scream followed the comment before the man turned to leave and head back inside and slipping on the puddle that had dripped to the floor.

Giggling, Murdock slipped into the backseat of the car and continued to laugh until they reached the barracks where he was staying. There, he went inside and grabbed his bags, stuffing them into the trunk, listening to the sound as someone was splattered with paint coming from a cleverly constructed trap. It took him a bit to sober up, but when he did, he answered everything that Face asked him about what he had done on the base, almost regretting it when he heard the long list that included stealing the base commander's computer and, oddly enough, his trash can and tissue box.

"I don't know if he'll be a hit with the others or if he'll be a hindrance," Brian snickered, glad that Face had made him come. Since picking the pilot up, he really hadn't stopped smiling or laughing.

The trio made a quick stop at the local police station and told them about the "fireworks" that they would be shooting off Sunday so that there would be beforehand warnings before stopping at the supermarket and gun shop to get the steaks and shotgun shells, knowing from past experience that it wouldn't get done that weekend, especially with the races and other things they would be doing.

Drifting off in a doze, Brian missed the quiet conversation that the other two men held as they drove back to the garage. He never did see the sad look Murdock aimed at him as he was reminded who he was.

"So, what are we doing down here, Face?" Murdock asked, doing his best to ignore what he remembered about that particular mission. The imagery that his mind conjured up about whatever happened to the man wasn't at all pleasant, and it gave him the chills.

As Face answered, they pulled up outside the garage and roped Rome into helping them get Brian out of the car and into his bed. Once again, introductions were made and then Tej pulled Murdock aside when he learned of the pilot's ability to make semi-passable predictions. The rest of the group went to work tuning up their rides for the night, including Brian's Nissan Skyline-he had recovered the car from the cops, passing the expensive repair bill onto them for ruining the vehicle in the first place. They were just finishing up when the former cop joined them, stumbling over nothing in his half aware state in his search for coffee and the sugar packets.

"Christ, it's a miracle that he even still has his teeth," Face said, disgusted. How could a man put in eleven packets of sugar in a cup of coffee and not even feel the effects or even become hyper? It made him insanely jealous for no reason, and he watched as Brian stumbled over to the chairs set out just for occasions like this where either a customer or one of the mechanics could sit down and watch.

"Hey, Bullet! Did you have a good nap?" Suki asked, using the man's street name as she often did.

"It could have been better, but give me a couple more cups like this and I'll be ready for the races," Brain replied, raising his cup as an indication of what he currently wanted. He knew that the others would severely limit his intake that evening so that he didn't look so twitchy as if he was running on meth or some other drug like speed, which he knew to be a deadly combination when mixed with fast cars. He also knew that they would force food on him, despite the fact that he really hated eating before hopping into a car on race night.

"Brian, go show Murdock where the grill is," Face suddenly spoke up, catching the sidelong glances that the pilot was shooting him. No one had noticed their silent communication and he understood what the man wanted, despite the fact that he bordered on the insane side of the world more often than not. Understanding the pilot came from years of trusting him in a combat zone, and praying that he wouldn't crash the helicopter while performing some stunt to get them away from their enemies overseas.

Wriggling, Murdock followed Brian out back, speaking to an invisible being that he named Billy. When Brian asked who he was, he was told that Billy was a dog that had since accompanied the team on missions, though he was the only one to see him. Nodding, Brian accepted the man's reality for what it was-it was the pilot's subconscious personality that spoke to him in an odd manner and told him that he wasn't crazy or insane, just that he saw things in a much different fashion than anyone else, including seeing things that other people didn't see, like a short haired Schnauzer named Billy.

"What were you doing when I first saw you in the infirmary tent?" Brian asked, heading out of the back door and into the warm Miami sun. "You came running in shouting things about suicide and vegetables and there was a black man chasing you and he had mashed potatoes on his face."

Murdock grinned happily as if it was the single most important thing in the world. "That day, all the vegetables just decided to die. I helped them get there-however sad it was-and they ended up hitting the command tent and some of the M.P.s. They never did find out what had happened. Sergeant Bosco "B.A." Baracus-that's the big ugly mud sucker you saw-intercepted one of the suicides and then the mashed potatoes told him who had launched the bowl," Murdock actually pouted at the idea of the potatoes' betrayal, complete with crossed arms. "Our majestic leader, one Colonel Hannibal Smith, stopped him from introducing his fist to me on a personal level, I might add."

"Sounds like it had been a busy day," Brian remarked, pointing out the grill and noting that there were a couple other things sitting there, ready for Sunday. Sitting beside the box of shotgun shells-and what was the pilot going to do with shells, Brain wondered-was an apron with the words "Kiss the cook", complete with a large imprint of smooching lips and an oven mitt in the shape of a pig. "I see that you'll be ready for the cookout, though I don't know what you're doing with the shells."

"Oh, I will. Wait until you see my technique. You'll love it," Murdock was back to being happy, completely forgetting about the incident in the infirmary tent, and it seemed that he forgave the potatoes for their transgression.

"I hear that you can work miracles with MREs. Is that true?" Brian asked, his eyes lightening at the sight of the exuberant pilot.

"You haven't seen anything yet," Murdock said. He then switched languages, describing what he had done in the past to the horrible packages of food in order to make them taste so much better.

The racers watched the two walk back in, speaking in a language that none of them had ever heard before, except for one man, and they certainly didn't speak it.

"Yeah, did I forget to mention that they'll probably spend the time talking to each other in Farsi or some other obscure dialect?" Face commented, rubbing the back of his neck in an embarrassed gesture.

"No, man, you didn't tell us that. I thought for a moment that I had hit my head on the car and was imagining all of this," Tej muttered, glancing at the clock. The time had flown by, and the sun was just setting. "Okay, the race starts in six hours, around midnight. We're starting a few blocks from the warehouse district this time. Conman, keep up with those two. They'll get you to the sight safe and mostly sound."

"Thanks for the action, man," Face gripped the other man's hand in appreciation when it was offered. "What's the buy in, anyways?"

"I didn't cover that with you, didn't I? Buy in's three grand, but sometimes it goes up. Brian here upped it a whole nickel and won it, even though I had put in a little surprise just for him," Tej answered, smiling at the memory.

"Man, you raised a drawbridge on me without any warning!" Brian called out from where he was standing with Murdock, breaking their conversation that had since switched to another dialect.

"And as I recall, you cleared it, using your nitrous system to jump that gap," Tej retorted, remembering the memory as if it had happened yesterday. "I don't have any surprises planned for this week-end, I promise." He said, catching the look that the former cop was giving him, holding up two fingers in a Boy Scout salute.

"I'm pretty sure you were never in the Scouts, man," Brian said, dodging the mock punch that was sent his way. He returned the mock blow with his own fist, cutting the power that would normally be behind it

"Okay, boys, save the testosterone for tonight," Suki decided to interfere, earning herself a smack on the ass. She shrieked in glee when Tej pulled her over his shoulder, giving her boyfriend a kiss when he swung her back down to plant her feet on good, solid terra firma. "I got to go get ready. I'm racing Rome tonight, and I plan on kicking his ass and taking his money."

As more playful bickering erupted, Face grabbed a bag filled with his new purchases and went to change clothes, pulling on a combination that matched him perfectly, and consisted of a dress shirt, a pair of stylishly ripped jeans and he made sure that his dog tags were hidden by the material of his shirt so that no one would see them. He slipped on a St. Christopher medal and with it, a small silver band on his right pinkie finger, and jammed his feet into a pair of comfortable sneakers. Hannibal and B.A. wouldn't recognize him in such a get up-they usually saw him wearing camouflage or more expensive suits.

It was unusually quiet in the garage when he finished and he found Murdock sitting on a chair on the deck of the house boat, staring out at the evening sun. He found out that everyone had split to prepare for the races, and he explained to the pilot what they were doing. There was no rebuke from the man most considered nuts, and that meant that Murdock knew that Face knew that what he was doing was dangerous, but he wasn't going to stand in his way, and besides, he got to have fun cooking in a couple of days. He couldn't wait to see everyone's reactions to his food and cooking process.

Minutes after finishing explaining to Murdock about the races they would be attending for two nights, Brian came out of his place dressed in a simple white T-shirt and black jeans. He wasn't one for dolling himself up for a race, unlike some of the others who dressed up just to show off. He offered to take the two men out to eat and they all settled on a local joint that served more than just burgers.

When it got close to midnight, they met up with Rome and drove off to the race party, admiring the local women who wandered by wearing almost next to nothing when they got there and what they wore wouldn't overheat their bodies in the Miami night. Loud music blasted from several different car stereo systems, some that must have cost a couple hundred pretty pennies. Groupies milled about, looking at some of the cars in awe, and many scattered when the three cars pulled up next to Suki's new silver and green late nineties Ford Mustang. People surged up, exchanging high fives with Bullet and his dark skinned friend. They were wary of Face and Murdock, though, having never seen the two before. What they could see, though, was the friendship that had formed between Face and Brian, and they were quick to respect it, especially when the man shook hands with Suki and commented on the paintjob her ride sported.

Tej quickly called the first group over to the start line, collecting the buy ins while one of his men kept an ear on the police scanner, throwing a thumbs up when the streets were blocked off and again when they were in the all clear.

Rome and Suki were among the first to race, though it was only those two at the starting line, and they finished dead even, leaving the crowd murmuring in respect to both drivers. Suki pouted as she was given back her buy in while Rome grinned like he was the one to have eaten the canary from the old saying.

Brian won his race with ease, having fun blowing away his competition, most of who were still trying to get their money back. Tej had kept his promise had hadn't sprung any surprises this time around, which was a relief because he probably would have fucked it up if he had done something that would have caused another flashback, and he was starting to get sick and tired of them already.

"All right, all right!" Tej called out, raising his voice to be heard over the excited fans and groupies who were milling around. "I have a new player for you tonight. Meet the Conman. This guy will take your money, your car, your girl _and_ all of your clothes if you aren't careful around him."

Face drove up to the start line, taking in the sight of his competition-a neon yellow sixties Camaro, a black Audi and a cherry red Challenger with black and white racing stripes. Their engine growls told him that they had modified the cars, but that they probably didn't put enough in them to count them a win. It would be like taking candy from a baby.

Tej pointed at the car farthest from him-the Audi-and asked if the driver was ready. The answering growl gave him his answer. Every driver responded by revving their engine and then a young woman wearing short shorts and a bikini top dropped the start flag.

Face shifted the gearshift as soon as he could, pulling ahead easily. The other cars were three car lengths behind him, and he smiled as the familiar feeling of adrenaline flooded his system. It was a different feel from the adrenaline that pumped through him in a combat zone-that was for survival and this was just for fun-and he loved every second of it. Though that race wasn't that long, minutes at most, it felt as if he had only spent seconds in the driver's seat when he crossed the finish line, and it left him feeling empty. He collected his money and handed over a percentage to Tej, in thanks for finding him some competition.

"Cops!" a voice shouted, causing everyone to scatter. Murdock ran to the passenger side of Face's car, smiling as he stuffed his own winnings in his pocket. He had bet on his teammate with others from the crowd and he had made a nice stack of bills when Face had crossed the finish line with time to spare. As Face evaded the cops, he eyed the pilot from the corner of his eye.

"How much did you make?" he asked, jerking the wheel to make the upcoming turn, watching as the police unit following him failed to make the turn, crashing into a fire hydrant and unleashing a jet of water.

"Five hundred and eight dollars and twelve cents," Murdock replied, cackling when they were in the clear. "This was fun, Facey. Can we do it again sometime soon?"

"How does tomorrow night sound to you?" Face replied, pulling onto another street that led him into the suburbs of Miami. He laughed at Murdock's excited whoop and drove to the garage that Brian and Rome owned, parking in one of the few empty place available to them, seeing as a lot of the drivers from tonight's races had ended up there for a couple drinks. The after race party last until about four in the morning, and Face and Murdock crashed on a couple of cots in the upstairs loft of the garage.

-(_)-

Saturday was spent the same way as Friday afternoon, except that things were taken at a little more luxurious pace. Murdock leaned over Rome's shoulder, constantly comparing every piece of the car's engine to some of the helicopters and planes he had flown in the past. It annoyed the black man, but he took it in stride when Face explained what the man did for a living-which was getting them out of tight spots using whatever aerial vehicle he could get his hands on. He even went on to describe all of the crazy rides that they had been taken on, starting with the helicopter dog fight against Tuco that had happened in Mexico where the entire team had met for the first time.

Tej commented on how that maybe he would learn how to fly a little two-seater plane when Suki told him to forget it, and that he probably would just crash it the first time he ever got behind the yoke of one. That in turn lead to an argument of how he had crashed into a wall going well over a hundred miles an hour and how bad his driving got whenever he got nervous behind the wheel. Suki eventually ended the argument-as amusing as it was to the onlookers-stating that if he ever sat in the cockpit of a plane, she would make sure that he would go celibate and probably cut something precious of his off.

Brian seemed more relaxed than the day before, everyone noted when he walked inside to get his cup of coffee. On an impulse, Murdock had secretly changed the coffee to decaf and replaced all of the sugar packets with salt packets early that morning. There was no way to tell the two apart as they had the same design. The pilot sniggered as the man took a large gulp from the cup, spitting it out when he realized what was wrong with the brew. His tongue burned from the salt and he rushed to the tap to rinse his mouth and cup out.

"Okay, who changed the coffee and sugar?" he asked, eyeing everyone in the garage, zeroing in on Murdock as he collapsed against a support column, holding his ribs as he laughed.

"You should have seen your face!" he exclaimed between puffs of air and giggles, dissolving once more into an undignified heap as Brian spewed out word after word in a multi-language rant. When Brian had finished, Murdock had long since turned into a puddle of a crying, laughing pilot, complete with tears running down his face.

"Wow, I didn't know you had it in you," Face said, staring at the former cop. Though he didn't speak most of what the man had said, he was impressed with the length and how many languages he had used, especially when he caught a word here or there that he knew the meaning of.

"Dude, are you okay or what?" Rome asked. Everyone was staring in awe at the "white boy" as Rome sometimes called his childhood friend. They were amazed at being the first group to officially hear the man say so much at one time and not in English either.

Muttering under his breath, Brian headed off to find a proper cup of coffee. He knew that the others were aware that he wasn't really angry with them and he knew that it was to get a laugh and a smile out of him in order to snap him out of the funk he was feeling. He wasn't ashamed to admit that it had worked, but he still needed that coffee.

Grabbing his keys and his wallet from the small kitchen table on the boat house, he called out that he was leaving so that no one would worry too much about him. Ten minutes later, he was ordering a large cup of java at one of the many coffee shops before sitting in an empty booth, pouring his usual amount of sugar into the brew from the self-serve jar on the table. As he sat there, sipping the coffee, he found himself wondering how things would have turned out if the Torettos hadn't had to run, even though he had never turned on them, keeping their secrets close to his vest in order to protect them. He wondered at how Mia was doing, or if Vince ever truly healed from the wounds on his arm, or how Jesse was after he was shot. Unfortunately, he never had the chance to find out because as soon as his former colleagues had view the nearest street camera footage, they had thrown his ass in jail before the ink had even dried on the warrant for his arrest. Hell, he was sure that they had put him in lock-up before the damned thing had even been printed.

Then, to make thing even worse, they had discovered what he had done to the Trans, but though it had been concluded as a type of aggravated self defense, most of the cops from LAPD turned their backs on him, including his partner. Many had the balls to walk into the prison where he was being held if only to spit at him before they left. It had been such a relief for the Army to come and spring him ten months and twenty five days into his sentence to serve as a translator. Some of the enlisted personnel he was close with viewed his actions as protecting his team, his family, despite that he had chased the Trans away with his gun and car.

Tiny shreds of the paper napkin that he had used to pick up a small spill surrounded the coffee cup when something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. Turning his head ever so slightly, he caught sight of a familiar person chatting with another. Picking up his mess, he returned the mug and threw out his trash before walking out and to the couple.

"Hey, Face," he greeted the conman and then he paused. He wasn't sure how to greet the other person, but he made up his mind on the most direct approach, hoping that he wouldn't get killed in the process. "Letty."

"I'd call you Spilner, bur we both know that it isn't your real name," Letty Ortiz replied coolly. Her face spoke nothing of what she was feeling, which was both a blessing and a curse.

"You can call me Brian O'Conner," Brian said, almost swallowing nervously. "Listen, Letty, I'm sorry about what I did in L.A., but I was under orders to find out who was doing the hijackings, and bring them down. I never did turn on you or Dom or the others. I just couldn't. I let Dom go. I gave him the keys to the Supra and let him drive off."

"I know. He told me before he drove off from our meeting point. We're going to meet across the border in a couple of weeks. I just stopped by to see the sights, and I ran into your friend here. Seeing you here was just an extra," Letty said. "What happened to you? Last I heard you were dealing with your cop buddies."

"They aren't my cop buddies anymore. They found footage of me letting Dom go and then they threw my ass in jail with no questions asked. I served ten, almost eleven, months of hell in Lompoc, like Dom, but I was mostly confined to solitary or the infirmary. That still didn't stop the inmates from trying to shank me nearly twenty times or from trying to gang up on me. The Army came up to me just as I was starting month eleven and asked me if I wanted to be a translator for them in the Middle East. I agreed and a week later I was in Afghanistan," Brian sighed. "Bad stuff happened while I was there, and it led to me staying here."

Letty didn't pry for any details. She could tell that whatever had happened to the man that she once considered family-and still did on occasion when she really thought about it-was horrific, and that it was better left in the past where it wouldn't affect him.

"I'll see you around then," Letty said, shaking both men's hands and turned to leave.

"Hey, Letty, wait up! What happened to Jesse and Vince? I never did get the chance to find out; the cops threw me away before I could even ask," Brian called out.

Sighing, Letty braced herself to pass on some good news and bad news. "Jesse didn't make it. He died in the hospital the next day. His body couldn't cope with the stress, I was told. Vince, on the other hand, was lucky. If you hadn't called for help when you did, he would have lost his arm, or worse-that driver would have shot him dead," turning back to the men, she pecked the former cop on the cheek. "That's for chasing the Trans down and for saving Vince."

"See you tonight?" Brian asked.

"There're races tonight?" she asked.

"Yeah, and a friend of a friend-so to speak of-is cooking dinner tomorrow night. Want to come? For old times' sake?" it wasn't that he wanted to redeem himself in her eyes, it was just that he wanted to make sure that they parted on good terms.

"I'll be there," she replied and left. She wasn't going to break her word, and she showed up near the beginning of the gathering. Just as she was about to leave, four cars pulled up, causing the crowd to go wild.

"Bullet's here! Get ready to lose your money!" someone shouted from the crowd.

"Suki! Suki!"

"Roman! Hey, Rome!"

"Hey, it's the Conman!"

The words were blurring into an unmanageable mess, and Letty visibly winced at the volume. Whoever these people were, the fans loved them. Her jaw dropped when Brian and his friend that she had met in front of the coffee shop got out of their cars, and the screaming rose to deafening volumes when all of the drivers had exited the vehicles.

Spotting Letty in the crowd, Brian waved her forward. Almost nervously, she did, but she ended up giving him one of her megawatt smiles when Brian dropped the keys to the Skyline in her hands.

"If you want to race tonight, you can. I'll give you the buy in, and you can keep the profits you make," he said. "You'll be in one of the first rounds, so be ready."

Accepting, Letty tucked the keys away, and watched as the man she knew only as Face direct his friend's attention to the first four cars sitting at the starting line. Quiet words were exchanged, and then the other man was let loose. He bounded up to a man with afro hair and started talking to him, his excitement visible to all. As she got closer, she could hear words about money and bets and who they thought would win based on past performances. With mild interest, she watched as they agreed on one car and driver-the far charcoal grey and magenta Honda Civic.

The Honda won that race, and throughout the night, Letty had fun. She had won her race easily, making a nice eleven grand after giving Brian back his buy in that he had loaned her. Everyone parted ways much later, and from the corner of her eye, she watched as Brian jumped when a hand was laid on his shoulder. In her heart, she knew that whatever had happened to him in Afghanistan had affected him deeply enough to scar him for the rest of his life. Making sure that she had the address of the garage in her pocket, she left the man and his friends, hoping that things would resolve themselves one day.

-(_)-

Murdock was busy bouncing from foot to foot, from one side of the garage to the other. He was impatient for that evening, eager to start cooking. But, unfortunately, it was too early in the day to start working the grill, so he had to settle with annoying everyone until he was told to light the barbeque up.

Face, having just hung up with his commanding officer, Colonel Hannibal Smith, wearily buried his head in his hands. He had just learned that their leave was going to be cut short and that they were going to be flown back out to the warzone in a couple of days. The base was down two whole teams from a sudden roadside explosion. He passed the word to Murdock and watched as the pilot stilled from the news. He could see the man mentally ready himself for their upcoming return to duty, and he promised himself that they would take it easy today. But first, Face had to find Tej and ask him a favour concerning a gift that he was planning on giving to a friend on their next stateside leave, whenever that would be. Once done, he lounged on the back deck, charming the phone numbers out of the ladies who were hanging around for the Jet Ski races.

Brian tightened the last bolt on the Skyline, finishing the tune up for that week. He had a habit of checking the engine over every Sunday, if only to make sure that the car would be in top condition for the races next week. He was looking forward to having dinner, nearly as eager to see how Murdock was going to cook the steak as the pilot was to start the grill. Slamming the hood closed, he noted that it was mid-afternoon when he looked at the clock. The time sure did fly when he was fixing his car, and he went to the office computer, filling out forms for a new piece of machinery that would come in handy sometime soon. A polite cough had him looking up to see who was there.

Letty admired the garage she was currently standing in. It was clean, with every piece placed with similar pieces for different models along the walls. It made for an interesting mural to look at, and people who knew what they wanted could select their own parts. Blond hair caught her attention from a window frame and she saw Brian pecking at the keyboard of a computer, searching for something. She made her way to the office doorway and coughed to let him know that she was there.

"Hey, Letty. How are you?" Brian asked, clicking the mouse to confirm the order.

"I'm fine. You turn into a gearhead since the last time you were in L.A.?" she returned.

"No, well, yeah, I guess I have. I used to boost cars with Rome when I was younger. I got good at finding out which cars were the best to take when I acted like a kid wanting to see what was under the hood. But, unlike Dom, I like to stay with the times. I noticed that he used all of the older stuff for his Charger," he replied, grabbing the printed forms and shoving them in a folder, placing it on top of a pile sitting by the computer before shutting the machine down. Standing, he offered his arm to the woman. "Are you ready? Murdock should be firing up the grill in about an hour; he's been bouncing around all day long. Everyone else is outside watching a whole bunch of idiots race on the water."

Letty slipped her arm through his and headed outside with him, eyes wide as she took in the sights of Tej's version of Jet Ski racing, yelling into a bullhorn as he encouraged his pick. He held a large wad of cash in his hands, and from the way he was sitting, it was the last race of the day, and that he probably had earned a nice amount. Two minutes later, the race was done and Tej was off, collecting his winnings, the bullhorn being put to good use to make sure that no one skirted him.

True to Brian's word, Murdock was allowed to warm the charcoal grill within sixty minutes, making sure that he was wearing his apron and a large chef's hat. He spoke to Brian in Pashto, and when he spoke using the English language, he used a British accent much to everyone's amusement. He used his words and eccentric body language to hide what he was doing to the shot gun shells, but he smiled like a maniac when only Brian caught sight of what he was doing. It was encouraging to know that the crazy pilot seemed to know what he was doing, and Brian braced himself for the familiar sound of the explosion that was bound to come when Murdock flipped the steak.

The resulting explosion was sudden and loud, and the remaining people who were at the garage stopped what they were doing and stare in awe at the pilot, wondering what he was doing. Skilfully twirling the metal spatula in the air like a master chef, Murdock used it to flip another steak and gleefully watched the gunpowder ignited with a flash and a cloud of smoke.

"Face, is this safe at all?" Brian asked the conman as he and Rome leaned forward as if to share some secret.

"It's completely safe, guys, and it tastes great. Whatever you do, though, don't ask for his secret sauce. You just might wonder why he isn't locked up. I usually just smile and go along with whatever he's cooked up. It's safer that way," Face told them. The antifreeze marinade secret sauce on the steak was okay, but for God's sake, the idea of that combo would make a lot of people pause in their steps if they ever saw the canister first.

Dinner was perfect. The right steak for everyone and a cold brew to wash down the meat was great. They stayed up for the night, talking about this and that and everything else. They all avoided sensitive areas like the war, and instead commented on how the garage would seem calmer once the two Rangers were gone for their tour overseas. Glass clinked as they toasted the fallen and wished that those who would fall would pass quickly and not suffer. The group spent the rest of the night in silence until they left, leaving Brian to lock up and head to his boat house, and his bed.

-(_)-

Face stared at the picture in his hands, smiling at the recent memories. Jimmy, Tej's right hand man, had snapped the shot of the group, including the two Rangers, as they sat on the hood of their cars, the vehicles arranged in a tight half circle. They had posed seriously with their arms crossed on their chests, with only Murdock grinning like a loon in the image. On the back, seven names had been signed, naming the people who were in the picture.

Murdock sidled up to the conman, patting his pocket to make sure that his copy of the picture was secure. He planned on putting it in his personal locker for safe keeping with his other important items, though he had been assured that if it was ever lost, all he had to do was call and someone would send a replacement to him. He had fun while in Miami, and he had made a nice amount of cash-nearly a thousand dollars on his own. He only hoped that they would be able to go back soon.

"Do you think B.A. will like his present next time the entire team goes stateside?" Face asked out of the blue, having tucked his picture away and closed his eyes as if he was sleeping.

"He had better not park in a handicap zone again, Facey," Murdock wisely stated, breaking out in a big smile at his choice of words.

"I thought that he was really going to kill you that time. He was so pissed that you knocked that air conditioning unit off of the roof so that it would crush the van like a pancake. Granted, you were protecting us from Tuco's men, but still," Face said, leaning his head back, the roar and the vibration of the C130's engine lulling him to sleep despite the rough ride they were experiencing at the time. "Tej'll have it ready when we go back. Wake me when we land." With those few words, Face was asleep, remembering the racing he had done in Miami and the sweet good-bye from his friends, new and old.

-(_)-

Years later, Brian found himself standing alone on the side of the road leading away from Miami at a prearranged meeting point between him and his partner. The Feds had contacted him through different means this time around and they had blackmailed him to join up with them in order to take out a criminal mastermind that found it fit to kill every officer they put in as an undercover illegal racer.

When the call had come through to him, he silently packed up some of his things, including two special pictures and had hailed a cab, leaving a note for his friends, telling them not to worry, that he would contact them as soon as he could, but not to expect anything in the near future. Now, he was waiting for his contact, his informant, and while he waited, he recalled the time when Face and Murdock came back from their long, extended tour overseas with two other men that he vaguely recalled meeting from his time in the 'Stan.

-(_)-

_Once the cab fare had been paid, Face and Murdock led the rest of the team into the busy garage, waving to some of the mechanics as they worked on cars. Veering suddenly, the conman had gathered another man into his arms, and earning an elbow to the gut for his troubles._

"_Christ, Face! You should know better than sneaking up on me like that!" the man scolded him, wagging his finger in front of his face like he was a puppy who had messed the floor. Just as he was about to properly greet the man; Murdock launched himself into his arms, nearly overbalancing them from the force of the impact. "Hey, Murdock! Do you want to hang on Friday night?"_

"_I sure do, Brian," Murdock replied._

"_Okay, so if we got things settled on that front, let me do the introductions. Hannibal, Bosco, this is Brian O'Conner. He was the translator in the tent, what, four years ago?" Face scrunched his eyebrows in thought before shaking it off. "Hey, where's Tej? He's supposed to have something for me."_

"_He's betting again. Just head out by the water and you'll find him," Brian waved the team away, ducking his head under the hood again in order to finish his work. He had a lot of people stop by this week, and there were only so many hours in a day to finish it all of the work that the team had to do._

_Tej had changed since Face had first met him. The man's hair had been cut short, and it changed the man. He still was the same, though, but it did take a while to find him, including passing by his spot a couple of times. When things finally did register in their minds, Tej warmly greeted the infamous Conman, and explained that he and Suki had split under pleasant circumstances. They were still good friends, and nothing was going to change that._

"_Man, I heard that you have a present for me. Can I have it?" Face asked after he introduced his team to the man. He was excited, having only kept in contact with the racing team via phone calls, and those were few and far in between. Still, he couldn't wait to see what Tej had gotten, and if it was what he wanted._

_Tej came back with a set of keys in his hand, tossing them to the pilot. "It's in the garage, under the dust cover on the far left side," he explained, watching as the team wandered back inside to look under the dust cover._

"_B.A., this is for you," Face said, and with help, he got the dust cover off of the replica of his van that had been smashed in Mexico._

"_We replaced the engine with a better one; the old one was rusting out of its housing, and this one is able to let you go from zero to sixty in three seconds flat. We put in bullet resistant glass, and how Face managed to get that to us for free is a mystery we still haven't solved, and he also got us some toughened tires. In fact, they should be run flats, if what I understood from that particular conversation is correct. We even got Suki to paint her up before she left for Tokyo," Brian told them from the car he was currently working on without even looking up. "I even included a full kit in the back if you ever need replacement parts or need to give it a quick fix, and our office number is clipped to the sun visor. There are also a couple of secret compartments inside, but I'll let you find them on your own."_

_The large black man gently took the offered keys and opened the driver's side door. The ignition turned smoothly, and the engine purred beautifully. It was as close as it was going to get for the big man to cry, and he would vehemently deny the fact that his eyes had watered whenever he was asked in the future. It was the perfect replacement for his lost baby, and he swore that he would take better care of this one than the last one._

_Unfortunately, it was another short visit and they were gone within a day, leaving behind a photograph of the infamous A-team as they were known as at the base, something that the team kept with them with their other picture of the racing crew._

-(_)-

Brian jerked his head up at the sound of a modified engine, snapping instantly awake from his half asleep state. His eyes widened when he recognized the slim figure sitting behind the wheel as the car approached him. "Letty?" he stuttered out, giving the woman the hug he could see that she so desperately needed, letting her sink into his embrace with relief. They pulled away and stayed at arm's length as he stared into her dark eyes, trying to find out the truth that was hidden in their depths.

"I want to clear Dom of everything he was accused of, Bullet," she said. By using his street name, she was showing him how serious she was. "I'm sorry that they forced you back in like this."

"Hey, it's okay. I want to help you, Letty," Brain told her, flinging his bag in the back. "Let's get going, all right? I want to know what we're going up against so we can get Dom home. How does that sound?"

Letty nodded and jumped into the passenger seat, knowing that as emotionally unstable as she was at the moment, she wouldn't be able to drive. It had been a battle to get down to Miami, and now she was glad that she wasn't behind the wheel. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, she started to tell the former cop-now a reluctant federal agent-everything that she knew about their assignment.

-(_)-

_Okay, so here's an idea that didn't want to leave me alone since I first watched 2F2F, and I thought about how cool it would be if Face from the movie A-team was an illegal street racer, and if he knew Brian from a brief posting in Afghanistan. So, I disregarded the fact that there was an implication that Brian had done years of undercover work after the end of the second movie and told myself that the feds got him back into the fold using good old-fashioned blackmail. Also, I noted that it had been mentioned that Brian served a year for aiding and abetting. In my twisted mind, he did serve time, but only about eleven months, seeing as his cover identity would be based on real facts, and I disregarded the prelude. The rest of the time of his 'year' he was in a warzone and recovering from his injuries. The rest of the movies are as canon as I can make them only that Face and the team would be around on occasion. The characters might seem a little out of character, but please bear in mind that this is my first time using both of these fandoms, even in this crossover format._

_This story will be a three-shot, and unless there is a sixth movie being planned, this is all that there will be. I'm covering the aftermath of 2F2F, Fast and Furious and Fast Five. Seeing as they left Fast Five with an opening like faking Letty's death and finding out that she's alive, I figured that there will be a sixth coming out some time in the future and will post further chapters to this fic._

_Obviously, I don't own anything pertaining to any of the two franchises. If I did, well, there's a damn good chance that I wouldn't be here, writing to my muse's content. I did, however, want to post this Christmas day, but I didn't. So, I wish you all a late Merry Christmas and a happy New Year._


	2. Chapter 2

_Between Family and Friends_

-(_)-

Silently, two figures sat at a small, rickety table in a poor part of town, doing their best so that they wouldn't be noticed or bothered by passer-by's with ill intent. The light in the room wasn't the best, and they strained their eyes as they looked around for anyone who might have followed them.

"I got in, Bullet, and there are already rumblings that things are going to start heating up, and soon," the woman said, her smoky voice pitched low so as not to be overheard by anyone or anything unwanted.

"I know, Letty, but we have got to hang in there," the man replied, encouraging his companion with words that he had said many times before, but his tone never was convincing enough, his large hand clasping her smaller one tightly. "We're doing this for Dom and the others. If worse comes to worse, I'll have Face contact some friends of his and we'll see about going above the FBI's pay grade, okay?"

At the mention of the Army Ranger conman, Letty smiled. She had only met the man once, and she had been impressed by him and his teammate, one Captain H.M. Murdock, the resident lunatic for the team and extraordinarily gifted chopper pilot.

"I hope that he can get more help, if it comes down to it," she said, leaving a twenty to pay for the horrible piss that the bar passed as beer. Together, they left and got into a rental, ready to head back to the apartment. "Is the safe house ready?"

"I finished it yesterday afternoon, and yes, per your request, I haven't gone near Mia," Brian turned the wheel to take the upcoming turn. "Are you fixing up the Charger again tomorrow?" The Dodge Charger he was referring to belonged to Letty's boyfriend, Dominic Toretto, and he had been a go-between for some good parts that the car would need. There were still a lot of things left to get, but it would take time to finish the vehicle. Time that they had until Dom could come home and finish her himself. He knew that the woman deserved a break from the operation, and smiled when she nodded.

The apartment was bare, except for the essentials, and the only things that were of importance. They hung on the wall, framed in cherry wood, depicting a better time when the FBI wasn't on their asses, trying to get results on this undercover case. That night was quiet, and Letty called Mia, Dom's sister, letting the other woman know that she wasn't going to be home for the night. The two split up after sharing another beer, heading to their own rooms and the air mattresses that awaited them.

Within the following week, the world came to a screeching halt for four people around the globe. Dom himself was shocked into silence when his sister called him up to share the bad news, the earlier traces of his annoyance and anger gone with the first couple of words that Mia had said, as Brian reverently placed the framed pictures in a box in the safe house with the rest of Letty's things as he waited to be put through to a good friend.

"Hey, Brian. I haven't heard from you since we last visited you all for B.A.'s van. I still have to thank Tej for it properly, though," Templeton Peck's cheery voice rang through, his tone echoed by the sound of familiar arguing in the background-something about a crazy fool and surviving the craziest of stunts. Despite that fact that it was late in the evening in Iraq, he sounded fresh for being in a war zone.

"Face, I have some bad news," Brian whispered, stopping the man from continuing on a monologue, and then he spilled the story to the conman, starting from when the Feds blackmailed him into their service and changed his history so that it showed that he had been working for them for five years, undercover, and ending with the news that Letty was dead, her burnt corpse having been found under her crashed car in the early morning hours on some paved back road. The accident had been confirmed as a murder, and the FBI wasn't doing anything about it.

"When is she being buried?" Face asked his voice low and subdued. He had liked the Latina for who she was, and her ability to race the streets well didn't tamper a budding friendship.

"They're putting her in the ground Sunday, and the Feds have me on guard duty in case Dom comes by. I can't pay my respects until everyone's gone," Brian replied, fingers tracing over Letty's smiling face, cleaning the smudges that his fingers left behind away from the glass. "She didn't deserve this, Face. All she wanted was to bring Dom home. She wanted her family to be happy."

"Look, Brian, I'll be down soon, okay? And then I'll help you get the son of a bitch who killed her," Face quietly reassured the other man. Suddenly, warning sirens sounded further out in the background. "O'Conner, I have to go, but I promise you that we'll say goodbye together."

Recognizing the flint in the Ranger's voice, Brian bid him a good night and good luck, hanging up shortly after the final exchange. Sitting quietly in the safe house, he angrily brushed away his tears, silently vowing to do whatever it took to get Letty's killer to face justice, even if that meant turning his back on the FBI and hunting him down to put a bullet in his head himself. Letty wasn't only a friend, but she was the sister he had never had, and family protects family, or avenges them. The box was placed in the small back bedroom, leaving behind the memories of two friends, including some things that he knew that he shouldn't leave there, but right now, Brian just didn't care. All he wanted was a beer and a quiet corner to remember the deceased woman before he returned to the office.

-(_)-

Dark eyes watched the funeral from a distance, reluctant to get any closer in case he got caught by the Feds. He had caught sight of his grieving sister sitting in the front row, closest to the grave. He knew that Letty was considered family to the young woman and that her loss was a hard blow to her already shattered world. As he made to duck away and leave, a slight hint of movement had him looking down again. Dominic Toretto frowned as he recognized the familiar face of a man he wasn't too sure of. He was obviously a Fed-dressed in the same kind of dark suit as the others-but there was something different in his movements and he couldn't put his finger on it. He decided that he would come back later to see his girl once more before heading off to wait until dark to see where Letty's life had been taken, and hopefully he would get all of the answers that he wanted.

Brian knew that Dom was standing by the oil rigs that were sitting in the distance-he had known all along but had only just turned his head so that the other man knew that he was there-but he refused to point that out to the Feds that roamed the graveyard, hoping for a glimpse of the man they considered to be a very dangerous criminal. Instead, he cursed under his breath in Pashto, snarling something vulgar about their relationships with their parents and goats as his back started to hurt in a vague memory of what he had suffered through years ago. He ignored the startled looks that the other agents shot him as he left the area despite warnings from Agent Stasiak-God, did he ever hate that man-and climbed into his own personal car, tossing the tie onto the passenger seat and popping a painkiller between his teeth as he opened a water bottle. He had a man to go pick up from the airport in a couple of hours, and he planned to spend them wallowing in his misery until he could come up with a plan to get Letty's killer, though he knew that Dom was heading off on the same mission as he was going to undertake.

Face waited for Brian at the terminal doors, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. People greeted him and thanked him for his service overseas when they recognized the camouflaged bag at his feet, and he smiled back in return for their sincerity. The difference in the atmosphere on the two land masses was enough to put him on edge for a while, but he managed to push the feelings away when a dark sedan pulled up and disgorged a familiar figure. It always amazed the conman how the former cop changed every time he saw him, from the first time in that tent in Afghanistan that he never wanted to think about ever again in his lifetime to meeting him in the garage that he owned down in Miami to now; he looked so beat and worn down that Face found himself wondering when he would be scraping the man off of the pavement. They said their hellos in subdued tones before Face dropped his bag in the back seat and they drove off.

It was late evening when they pulled up to the cemetery gates, headlights flashing over rows and rows of tombstones as Brian manoeuvred the car on the winding path until he pulled over to the side. He let his head hang for a moment before leading Face to the grave stone with Letty's name carved on it.

"I remember when I first met her in Miami. She was walking down the street looking at some of the vendors. I had approached her to ask her out, but she turned me down, explaining that she already had someone in her life, and that he wasn't going anywhere," Face said, breaking the silence that surrounded them, smiling at the memory. "That's when you came out of that coffee shop and started talking to her."

"She was happy when she learned that there were races that night you know. She had a great time and made a nice earning for herself. Eleven grand in one night is nothing to laugh at, and she gave me back the buy in when she didn't have to," Brian sat down on the damp grass, the dew soaking through his jeans. There were so many things that he was beyond caring about at this point, and minor inconveniences like damp jeans were among them. "She was so pissed to hear that the Feds fucked around with my record. The very first thing that she did when word of it reached her ears was to demand me to take her to the federal building where she could yell at my bosses all she wanted. I think that some of them had to leave right after she did to change their pants-come to think of it, they had been sitting in it for a damn good hour before she had slammed the door open. Quite a few of the rookies handed in their resignations that very day since they could hear all of the yelling from the floors right above and below us. They figured that having someone yell at them like that wasn't worth being an agent."

Face sniggered out loud at the mental image that popped up in his mind. "I can really see her doing that. The girl had a lot of attitude in her," he dug through his pocket, fishing out a little trinket that he had bought for the woman while he was stationed overseas. He placed the trinket on the grave, positioning the little bird so that it looked as if it was flying across the granite.

Brian nodded. The bird suited her as she seemed like she was a free spirit. Getting to his feet, the two men saluted the stone marker with perfect precision before snapping silently into a parade rest stance.

"We will get them, Letty. Fuck the Feds and screw the ones who took you away from Dom, and us," Brian whispered to the cold marker, leaving this part of his past with the other bad things that had happened to him. He had a bunch of files to go through in order to find a lead. And if the Feds pulled him away from the case, he was determined to drop his badge and department issue gun off at the front desk and complete everything as a concerned citizen, albeit a heavily armed concerned citizen.

Dom stepped out from behind a tree, trying to make sense of what he had heard from the man who had let him go and his friend. Squatting, he picked up the little bird carving that had been left behind as he tried to figure out when Brian had been a member of the armed forces; that salute was one that was learned and not a mockery. What he did know was that the FBI had somehow blackmailed Brian into working with them and had changed his records in order to hide something; probably their own ways of coercion and to cover their sorry asses. Standing abruptly, he started the long walk to his sister's place, needing her to answer some of his questions. The bird never did leave his hand, even throughout his inspection of the crash site, his sharp racer's mind picking out some details that he was sure that the Feds had missed. There would be hell to pay when he got his hands on the bastard who drove on nitro meth, the one, he reasoned, who killed Letty where she lay in the aftermath of the accident.

Face followed Brian to the apartment, wincing at how sparse it was. There was literally nothing in the place, other than the bare necessities, and that was stretching it. "Christ, Brian, this is worse than the barracks at Headhunter," he remarked. Of course, he knew why there was next to nothing here; if Brian or Letty ever had to run, all they had to do was pack everything up in ten minutes and then they would have been out of the door and driving away. Either this was their secondary place or the FBI really didn't like the two.

"It's not much, Face, but we made it work," Brian said, grabbing a chilled can of beer from the fridge and passing it to the con artist. He then turned to the cabinet furthest from the fridge and grabbed a stack of files. "I managed to get the name David Park from some dumb shit I was chasing the other day, but the only problem is that it is a common enough name that I'm going to have problem trying to track down which one I want."

"So, let's get down to business," Face took a long drink from the can and grabbed a file, reading its contents. He doubted that an eighty year old man who lived in Idaho as a former potato farmer had connections to the racing scene, so he tossed the manila folder to the side. This was going to take a while.

-(_)-

It didn't take much convincing to get the address from the mechanic who had told him off, and Dom gladly left the little shit snivelling in fear after threatening to drop an engine block on his head. As he headed down the street, his destination clear in mind, he frowned at the bright sun. It was as if it was mocking him; making everyone else cheerful despite the fact that he was grieving. The world kept on turning, and people kept living their lives. Of course, as he as walking, he found himself wondering about Brian and his mystery friend, and what had happened in the last five years. While south of the border, he had heard of some rumours of some kickass drivers in Miami; Bullet, Conman and some other guy named Rome were among the most mentioned. He tried to figure out if O'Conner was one of the trio, but he couldn't be sure. He wasn't about to admit it out loud, but Brian was a good driver, and he had been impressed with his talent, especially when he got past the idea that the man was a cop. His frowned deepened when he remembered the random news report he had stumbled across months after running from Los Angeles.

Despite the reporter speaking in Spanish, he made out the fact that the cops had arrested another of their own who had aided and abetted a dangerous criminal. Unfortunately, shoddy signals had cut the feed off after the woman had said "Brian." The report had completely slipped his mind until now, and he swore that he would look up previous news feeds from the L.A. area in order to find out if he was right in thinking that Brian had been taken in by the cops after letting him drive away in the Supra.

But, right now, there were more important things to take care of. He had to find out who had killed Letty, and the reason behind her murder. Then, he would search for that news cast and find out the truth with what had really happened with Brian.

He was surprised when Brian burst into the room where he was hanging one David Park out of the window, his unknown friend with him, though he knew that the former cop would show up at some point in time. He shared a wry grin with the two men, letting go of Park's ankles, watching out of the corner of his eye as Brian caught the scumbag from becoming a bloody mess on the pavement below. Dom nodded at the stranger when he left, his grin turning into a full blown guffaw as he listened to Brian's curses as they wafted back to him.

"Goddamn it, Connie, help me!" Brian nearly shouted. "He isn't a lightweight, you know." Those words were followed by another language as it was muttered under Brian's breath.

"Don't you dare call me Connie, you little bastard. You know what happened last time someone gave me a nickname based on my street name?" the unknown man shouted back, a smile in his words as he ran to help O'Conner pull their suspect back into the building.

"Yeah, you won everything that the guy owned and then some; you got his girl, got him bankrupt after taking all of his money and then you insulted his mother. Christ, man, how many times are you going to insult someone's lineage before you learn that it generally ends up with a closed fist landing on your face?" the sounds of a struggled echoed briefly in the stairwell. "You know, sometimes, for a conman who could steal a donkey's back legs and sell them back to the same animal and still convince it that it got the world's greatest deal, you can be a little dumb. Are you sure that you haven't received too many knocks to the head under Colonel Smith's service?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" "Connie" replied.

"Hey, guys, can you not talk and get me back into my room?" Park demanded, his voice cracking as the blood continued to rush to his head.

"Shut up!" both men spoke in unison as their suspect was finally pulled back into the room. Voices mingled as Brian recited Park's Miranda rights and "Connie" giggled about "how fun this trip was so far" while Park groaned and cursed.

Random people on the street stopped and stared at the trio as they exited the brick building, but they ignored the sight when they saw the badge or the handcuffs around the wrists of one of the three men.

Face not so gently shoved Park in the back seat of Brian's Government Issue sedan, slamming the door closed and muffling the protests that the man made about his treatment. He joined the man with a racers' heart at the front of the car where he was scowling at a crack in the pavement. Finally, after a couple of minutes, he huffed out a sigh and took the keys from his pocket. "Hey, Face, do you want to drive? I don't think that I should be behind the wheel," Brian asked, handing them over when Face nodded. He could see that the former cop was in no shape to drive, or even be out of bed, but he knew better than arguing with him so he plucked the offered keys from the outstretched hand.

"Where are we going?" the conman asked, sliding behind the wheel and adjusting the seat for his slightly taller frame.

Brian supplied the directions, giving weak grins as Face pushed the speed limit on straight streets. He found himself hiding a real smile when Face was busy getting his visitor's pass, as he kept glaring at the man and woman standing behind the desk when they tried to ask him anything. He knew that it was because of the knowledge that the Feds had coerced him and Letty into joining them, and he was going to stay and watch the show he knew was coming. There was no power in the world that would drag him away from that meeting, and besides, he really wanted to see the man in action as he faced the bureaucrats.

Once Face had been given his visitor's pass, he joined Brian and Park by the elevators and gladly shoved the suspect in through the first available space offered. They were joined by other agents, who listened warily as the one they knew as O'Conner happily snarled away in Arabic as the other man, who was obviously a soldier, worked on keeping calm. The man that stood between them then decided to try and make a break for it despite the enclosed space at that exact moment. While the agents were scrambling to secure the man, the soldier simply grabbed the punk by the collar of his shirt and slammed him against the side of the elevators with enough force that the walls shook from the impact.

"I'd rather shove you out the nearest window, _cabrón_, but then these nice agents would have to arrest me and I would be no closer to helping to solve the murder of a good friend. So, you are going to stand still and behave, or I will show you what Agent O'Conner is being forced to hide. And I will show you how it happened, if you want," Face growled, his blue eyes burning with an icy fury.

Park settled down, but not because of the threat that he had just been given, but because that he was scared shitless. First it was the bald son of a bitch who had hung him out of the window of his own apartment, and then this guy with his burning blue orbs. He had no interest in making anyone else mad today, and giving them the excuse to kill him. So, he fumed in silence as he was led to a glass walled office, complete with a desk and two chairs.

Brian grunted in surprise when he was suddenly pushed into a cement wall, hissing as the move he used to twist himself out of the grip pulled on his sore muscles. Ignoring the pain pulsing from his old wounds-it only made its appearance known whenever he was over tired or under the weather-he slammed his fist into Stasiak's face and gut, winding the man enough so that he could slip away and place his back against a wall, pushing away memories of fetid breath washing over him and hands ghosting roughly over his flesh. Resisting the urge to vomit what little he had consumed that day, he turned his attention back to reality, catching the tail end of Face's rant.

"…if you think that you can start pushing your weight around like that, I swear to God that I will go to the press tomorrow and tell them the best story for the five o'clock news-how you blackmail people into your agency, like your bosses did to Brian and Letty!" Templeton Peck growled, his hands twisted into a semblance of claws as if he was a big cat bringing down his prey, but he was protecting one of the men he considered family.

"Agent Stasiak!," a voice loudly cut through the sudden silence, quickly startling the spectators into creating a path for the man who spoke. "What is the meaning of this?"

"He knows where Toretto is, sir!" Stasiak replied, brushing the blood away from his face, twitching as a finger caught his nose, igniting in pain as cartilage shifted under his probing touch.

"Do you have any proof to back you up, or is this all accusation on your part?" a man Brian later identified as Agent Penning asked. When Stasiak didn't answer, Penning just told the man to go and get cleaned up with nothing further to say.

Face watched the confrontation cautiously, his own hackles still raised in anticipation of a fight. Instead, he watched, confused, as Penning sent the other man away before turning his attention over to them.

"You know what makes a bad agent, O'Conner?" Penning asked once they had a semblance of privacy. "One bad decision."

"Fuck you, brah," Face spat, falling into his Conman personality with ease, and ignoring the eavesdropping ears in the room. "It isn't Brian's fault for any of this, you hear me? I know that you know that the bastards who sit in the chairs above you forced him and Letty to infiltrate the cartel that this dude Braga runs. I also know that if he doesn't do as they say that they'll toss him back in prison with just a word, and no amount of finagling from the armed forces will get him out to act as a translator.

"So, this is how things are going to turn out from now on. Brian will get technical support from you, but if something screws up, he won't be answering alone for the mistakes made. You will keep that maniac who attacked him just now on a tight leash, or like I said, I will be going to the largest news station in the area and I will tell them everything. I will be his backup, along with whoever I choose." Eyes wide in awe, all of the agents in the room kept staring as the man who accompanied Brian got into Penning's face. "Do I make myself clear, or do I have to explain it again?"

Penning nodded and left, leaving the rest of the room to get back into their previous tasks while Park was brought into the processing room.

-(_)-

Leaning against the glass wall of the conference room, Face listened as a plan was thoroughly thought out. He smiled as a pretty agent who had Asian blood running through her veins handed Brian a new driver's license-he couldn't remember the first name she had given him, but he knew that her family name was Trinh-and nearly laughed out loud when Stasiak almost pissed himself when he laid eyes on the two racers in the room before rushing out.

"Ready, Brian?" Face asked, pulling away from the wall. "I need to check on my baby, before we leave."

"You have your Spyder here?" Brain returned, pushing the door open and letting his fried go through first.

"Nope, I have another car for the west coast. Tej is keeping an eye on the Spyder. No, I got a Impala being held at a garage as a favour that some guy owes me," Face replied. "I'll meet you in the mob, okay?"

"Sure. I've got to go see what they have seized downstairs and make my own modifications," the soft ding of the elevator bell sounded that there was a lift on their floor and they took it down to the main floor where Face once again stared at the two agents who had taken care of his visitors pass. The two men split up, Face leaving Brian to head off to the garage where the FBI kept all of the cars that they had seized during other busts.

Face made his way over to a little known garage in the downtown area. Well, it was only known inside of the community that made up the street racers, and it wasn't good enough for the higher class of people who made up the population of the city who preferred their garages to be spotless and the secretaries dressed in something that one would wear to business meetings or a model shoot. He made a brief stop at the apartment that he had stayed at last night, changing into the attire he usually wore when he was racing, having packed multiple pairs of jeans and dress shirts in his bag.

"Benito!" Face hollered as he opened the door to the garage, ignoring all the stares he received from the racers who were lounging around, drinking beer and chatting. "I need my car, Benito, and I want to make sure that she still works!"

"_Hola_, Conman. I still have your car, and she still runs, _amigo_," a man in his mid-forties to late fifties came out of the back room, wiping grease from his hands. "Come, I will show you."

Following the small Mexican into the backroom where the man kept all of the cars others charged him with keeping, Face smiled when he laid his eyes on the Impala, admiring the clean lines and the paintjob of black, gold and bright lime green. Just like the Spyder, the design was simple and not too fancy like some drivers who dressed their cars up to the nines.

"You said that she still runs?" Face asked, grabbing the offered keys.

"_Si_, she does, _amigo_. I run her every week to make sure that her engine doesn't seize up, and I regularly change the oil," Benito replied. "If I may ask, why do you need her now?"

Face sighed. "Have you heard of the Braga cartel and the drivers he employs?"

"I have. What about it?"

"Braga hires the racers to transport his product across the border, _la frontera_, and then when they have done the task, he kills them and keeps his money. Last time, a good friend of mine tried to escape, and she nearly got away, but one of them managed to catch up to her and caused and accident, leaving her burnt body under her car. I'm going to help a friend of mine who was blackmailed into the FBI get her killer, no matter what," Face explained, watching the blood drain from Benito's face.

"That explains why no one has ever heard from them again," he murmured as the realization spread across his features, having known some of the drivers that had been picked. Now, he knew why he had never heard from them again, and he finally had closure for his family; his son had been one of chosen drivers.

Minutes later, Face was driving the Impala away, trying to ignore the heavy feeling in his gut. Grabbing his cellphone, he dialled the base, asking to speak to the rest of his team.

"Facey, what happened?" Murdock was the first one to get on the line. Like usual, he was acutely aware that something had happened for the conman to head back to the states with hardly a word on short notice.

"A cartel killed Letty, H.M., and she was trying to get enough evidence to get the bastards arrested so that she and Brian could get on with their lives," Face refused to go any deeper than that, knowing that the pilot was sensitive, and could take the news of Letty's death hard.

"I'm sorry, kid. Is there anything you need?" Hannibal Smith asked his lieutenant, his voice rough from the cigars he smoked and slightly hoarse from recently issued orders that he had yelled earlier that day.

"Yeah, can you call anybody and everybody you know to find out why the FBI pushed Brian into a suit using blackmail? I checked out his records when I had a spare half hour, and it shows that he was undercover for five years, when I know damn well that he wasn't," Face rubbed a hand over his eyes, voicing a sigh. "They blackmailed Letty, too, and now she's dead and there hasn't been any investigation into her death other than contributing her as a dead associate of the Braga cartel."

"I'll do what I can, kid, but I can't promise anything," Hannibal replied.

"I know, but whatever you get will help, even if it puts the entire L.A. office under investigation," looking at the time, he sighed again, idly realizing that he had been doing it a lot since he got the news about his Latina friend. "Look, I have to go. I have to go run some personal favours and see what my contacts know. Let me know what you can do. Oh, and Murdock? Be ready; I just might need you later."

Hanging up, Face drove to a hangout for the racers, hoping to get as much intelligence as he could to help Brian. Pulling up, he shook all thoughts of the better times he had gone through in the past and adopted a more serious persona. Eyes darker than anyone he currently knew had ever seen, he curled a hand into a fist and knocked on the door.

Not an hour later he was leaving, using a rag to wipe the blood from his hands and face, all the while shoving back the whispers that spoke to him, trying to encourage the violence to continue. It had taken a lot of persuasion, but he finally had a confirmation about a name that was connected to the cartel.

Campos.

When race night rolled around, Face tried to hide his smile as some of the racers gaged their competition. He was going to race, but if he got Campos' attention, he was going to turn the man down, and steer him over to Brian. He had already created a cover story that the man known as Bullet agreed on; they were foster brothers who had bonded during their stay in an abusive household, and had sworn to stand by each other for the rest of their lives.

Visually sweeping the area, he did a double take when he recognized the face of the man who had hung David Park out of the window in his own apartment. Dominic Toretto was wandering the crowd, obviously looking to get Campos' attention so that he could get close enough to the bastard who killed his girlfriend. Of course, he kept his mouth shut. If the FBI was listening in somehow, he wasn't about to tell them information that they wanted concerning the fugitive-he was still angry with the entire Bureau for what they had put Brian and Letty through-and he figured that if he omitted the fact that he saw Toretto, well, they couldn't really charge him with what he knew. So, instead, he shrugged off the fact that he had seen Toretto and climbed into his car, driving the vehicle to the starting line and handing over his buy in of four grand.

The profit he made when Face won the race would go straight into his bag, providing that not a lot was needed in order to help get the Braga cartel off of the street. Still, with all that he had in Miami and L.A., he could easily live in a penthouse if he wanted to. Standing by his car, Face was chatting with a very pretty woman when a bald man approached him, a couple of thugs following like lost puppies behind the unknown man.

"You are a good driver," the man said, speaking with a Mexican infliction, though not as heavy as Face would have thought.

"Thanks, brah," Face took the compliment in stride, waiting for the punch line to drop like the proverbial other shoe.

"My name is Ramon Campos. I would like to give you a job, if you would like," the man started to give his offer but Face cut him off, ignoring the looks on all three strangers.

"Look, man, I don't need a job, okay? I make enough with what I'm doing at the moment. However, if you really want to give me a job, then I'm going to have to pass you onto my brother," pointing at Brian, the Conman waited for the words he knew where coming.

"You do no look alike enough to be siblings," Campos remarked.

"I know that. He's my foster brother. We grew up in a piss poor environment and we helped each other when we were growing up. We promised to stick by each other and help the other out if it was requested. He needs the money, and I don't, so I told him that if anyone offered a job to me that I would dump them on him," Face explained, giving a couple of details from the cover story he had concocted. "He's a damn good driver, and an even better brother. I would hunt down anyone who hurt him to the ends of the earth, and into the bowels of hell if I needed to."

"Brah, I told you before that I can take care of myself," Brian said, coming to stand beside his "brother". He allowed the hand to ruffle his hair before swatting the appendage away. "I have gun training and I can hold my own on the streets."

Campos paled for a minute second before he regained his composure. He had not expected this scenario before now. "I will keep your brother's name in case I need him. What are your names and contact information, should I need them?"

The two blue-eyed blondes shared a secret grin. "I'm known as the Conman on the streets, and my brother is called Bullet," Face answered, not even bothering to hide the big shit-eating grins that covered their faces as Campos and his guards paled dramatically while the crowd surged forward at the sound of the famous drivers: Conman because he was a legend at taking everything and Bullet because even they had heard of the great fiasco down in Miami that had the cops driving in badly busted patrol units and being the targets of much ridicule.

Campos had heard about the two as well, and he felt as if he had eaten an entire lemon without the peeling. He would have to be careful in eliminating these two for the cartel; he did not need any loose ends that would come back and haunt him. Instead, he shook hands with the two men and told them that if he had need for Bullet's particular skills, he would leave word for him at the next race.

The surging crowd caught Dom's attention. Looking up from his Charger, he watched as race fans crowded around five individuals. It soon became apparent who they wanted to see when he heard the chanting and demands for autographs. Bullet and Conman were here, and they were causing a big commotion. Shrugging, he ducked his head into the car once again, only to jerk it out when something familiar caught his eye when more fans rushed forward.

It made no sense. He knew that Brian was a good racer, but was he really the man known as Bullet? His friend was obviously Conman, remembering the "Connie" comment he had overheard in the stairwell at Park's place. Staring, he tried to figure out how the former cop was the East Coast's famous street racer, and then he shrugged his shoulder, deciding that he really didn't need to know all that had happened since he had last spoken to the man years ago at the moment.

-(_)-

Brian did receive word that he would be a driver for the cartel over the next couple of days, and he picked up the GPS unit that he was told to go and get. Currently, he was rubbing his shoulder, trying to get the RFID implant that Face had just injected him with into a better position so that it didn't feel as if there were ants crawling all over his skin.

"So, what else do you think we'll need?" Face asked, chopping vegetables up for a quick stew; he wasn't as good a cook as Murdock, but he could make a good dish when it suited him.

"Free reign," Brian muttered. Over the last couple of days, there had been pressure from the other Feds who had given the operation the go-ahead, and they really wanted their results. "I think that we should bring Murdock in soon. We may just need his piloting skills sooner rather than later."

"True. I'll get started on securing him a ride as soon as possible. I'll get some armaments for us, too. Nothing heavy in terms of firepower, just some handguns, maybe a couple smoke grenades and a flash bang or two," Face noted, tossing a chunk of carrot in his mouth to chew on as he added spices to the browning hunks of steak.

Not ten minutes after finishing their meal did they hear the GPS ping as a new location was uploaded into its memory bank. Brian took a look at the screen, showing the address that had appeared to his friend. "Looks like things are getting ahead of schedule. Get the ball rolling for Murdock, Face, and let him know that we might need him before the end. I have got to get going," the former cop said, throwing on a clean shirt and pair of jeans. "Hey, what can I say that damn chip does if they do have a scanner and find it?"

"It's one of those experimental types of chips where it can keep your entire history on record, from your bank accounts to your medical file, even your home address. If they pick it up and scan it somehow, tell them that; it should read what I just told you. Besides, we know that the Feds would try and place some kind of locator with you. This way, at least you have a legitimate excuse as to why you have a piece of technology sitting in you," came the reply as the conman grabbed his cell phone from the bedroom he was using. He had calls to make, and there was little time to get things done.

Brian nodded and grabbed the keys to his car, almost forgetting to close the door in his haste to leave. He was anxious and worried, knowing that Campos and his crew could have him killed if they didn't accept the lie about his GPS locator, but it was a risk that he was going to take, consequences be damned.

The GPS that Campos gave him led him to what looked like an abandoned loading dock. Pulling in, he took note of all of the other drivers, keeping the surprise from his face when he recognized Dom and his Charger. How many times had the car been fixed? He remembered when he had seen the same car flip over the Supra during their last quarter mile race.

"Step out of the car," a burly man demanded, a wand held in his hand. He swept the device around and inside the car, nodding that it was clean, but frowned when he ran it over Brian. "What do you have on your shoulder?"

"It's one of those implants that can hold all of your information like credit statements and health records. You get it scanned and the scanner can select whatever they need. Easier than carrying an entire wallet full of credit cards; you never know who's going to try and pick pocket you," Brian shrugged. He had to act as if he had carried the chip for a while now in order to try and sell the fact that it was harmless and hide the fact that there was a GPS emitter in it. "If you're that concerned about it, I'll just leave. You can find yourself another driver, if you want."

"Leave it," another Mexican spoke up. "I have heard of these devices. It truly is better than carrying all of you information on it than in your pocket."

Grudgingly, the other nodded and put the scanner away. Minutes later, Brian was shifting in the driver's seat as the last car was loaded into the trailer of a big rig. He was getting a bit nervous, especially since he had left his cellphone on a table with other devices. Taking a deep breath to calm his shaking nerves, he closed his eyes and tried to put most of the bad memories that haunted him back in their locked box at the back of his mind. It took the better part of the ride, and to the others, it looked like he was sleeping.

When they were finally allowed to drive out of the trailer, Brian was surprised to see another car waiting for them, the dark paint-maybe it was green or black or blue, he didn't care-waiting for them, and a black man leaning against the engine housing.

"Let's go," he ordered, jumping into his ride, and turning the engine over. As the man led them through the desert, a woman's voice came over the speakers of the GPS in every car, her sultry tone exciting nearly every man.

"Follow Fenix. He knows where he is going," the woman said, ordering that the drivers leave their headlights off for the duration of the drive.

Dom had taken a couple of minutes after they exited the trailer to examine the ground near Fenix's car, finding the proof that the man drove on nitro meth. This was the man who had killed Letty. As he tried to figure out how to take out the bastard, they were told to start their cars and follow their guide. He realized that they were heading for the Mexico U.S. border and drove his car out of formation, ignoring the woman's voice as she demanded that he get back in line. Swallowing his frustration, he did as he was told, vowing to get Fenix as soon as they came to a stop.

Then, to everyone's surprise, they drove through a hidden passage that had been built under the cliff range, driving as fast as they could with their headlights now illuminating the crude tunnel, glad to have avoided detection from the border patrol. It wasn't a long drive, and maybe twenty minutes after they exited the tunnel and drove onto a paved road, they pulled off into a clearing that had enough natural brush in the area to hide them from prying eyes.

"Get out of your cars," Fenix ordered, slamming the door of his ride shut once he was out.

Most obeyed the orders, but Brian could see Dom fiddling with something in his car before he got out as well. Fenix then thanked everyone for getting the job done right, but before he could go any further, Dom called out to the man.

"Only pussies drive on nitro meth," he said, causing Fenix to pause and turn to him.

"What did you say?" Fenix growled.

"I said that nitro meth is for pussies," Dom returned with his own growl. He stood in Fenix's face as he continued. "You killed someone I knew. Her name was Letty and she was killed in a crash not that long ago."

Fenix nodded as if hearing the truth proved that he had accomplished another thing that he had always wanted to do. "I remember her. She was the only one to escape when we started to clear the area. I caught up with her on the back roads, and I ended her life after she crashed. It's too bad that we had to pick her; she was a sweet looking piece of ass."

Before Dom could even snarl his displeasure at some man reporting his obvious lust for his dead girlfriend, there was a very subtle click, followed by a large explosion. Dom had opened the valves on his nitrous system and had engaged the lighter in his car, hoping that the resulting confusion would allow him the chance to kill the man who had killed his woman.

Startled by the loud bang, Brian immediately fell back on his training and had knocked out two of the Mexicans and took their weapons, firing short bursts and dropping men left and right as he kept an eye on Dom, who was taking care of his own batch of men. Letting the spent weapon fall to the ground, Brian jumped into the only other vehicle that was unscathed; a civilian model hummer and started the engine, pulling to a short stop beside the other racer and ordering him to get in the car, his sharp eyes taking in the fact that he was bleeding from a shoulder wound.

-(_)-

Closing the phone on Penning's voice as the man hollered at him to bring the shipment of drugs and Dom back to the federal building, Brian followed the drops of blood to the back of the vehicle he had commandeered, only to find Dom staring at one of the open cases.

"So this is what sixty million looks like," he commented.

"Yeah. Listen, we have to get you patched up and get this to a safe place," Brian said, pulling out another phone and calling Face so that he would have a full medical kit ready at the safe house and have everything packed from the apartment.

Once the shipment of drugs was stored at the impound lot, and after getting a car from there, they were on their way to the safe house, which, ironically, wasn't that far from where Dom had been standing when he was observing Letty's funeral. Dom called his sister, telling her to bring food to the address he supplied her.

Mia hesitantly knocked on the door, hoping that she had gotten the right place. When the door opened and a man with blue eyes and a shaggy military haircut greeted her, she was half afraid that she had stopped at the wrong place. Her fears were eased when the man told her that Dom was waiting for her at the table and that he needed her help. She passed the food to him, noting that Brian was sitting alone in a corner as he cleaned some kind of long range weapon. When he looked up at her, he gave a small smile, a poor imitation of what she remembered him giving her when they had first met.

"Okay, so, I'll handle the introductions. Dom, Mia, this is Face or the Conman as he goes by on the street. The more official version of his name is Lieutenant Templeton Peck, Army Ranger. Face, let me introduce you to the Toretto siblings, Dom and Mia," Brian said as he watch Mia clean the wound on her brother's arm, grabbing a needle and thread to sew it closed.

"What is a Ranger doing racing?" Dom rumbled, wincing as the thread tugged at his skin and a stitch was completed.

"I'm a product of my youth. I was raised in the orphanages and when I got old enough, I was sitting on the sidelines of the races. Some man took me under his wing and showed me how to race. Of course, I probably bullshitted my way into making him believe that I was older than I really was when I met him; it's probably why I got into so much trouble as a kid," shrugging, Face put more things away so that they weren't stepping in the clutter that he had packed from the apartment.

Hours passed and Dom had been given an explanation about why he had found a picture with Letty and with bunch of other people leaning on the hood of their cars. He had been introduced to each person, and he committed their faces to his memory with their names.

Face frowned when he looked at his phone to check on the time. "Murdock should be landing in the morning. I'll help him get his things sorted out, and make friends with anyone who has a helicopter. I'll drop you off at the office, if that's okay with you, Brian," he said, stretching until his spine cracked.

"Yeah, sounds good. I have a plan and I need the Feds to take a back seat. We need to get Campos and Fenix to tell us where Braga is, maybe offer up an exchange-the drugs for the information-and if that doesn't work, then we'll just have to find another way," Brian told them as he got up from his chair and dumping his empty beer bottle back in the box.

"Plan B, coming up," Face grinned.

"Oh, shit. You've been hanging around Smith for too long. Don't let me know what kind of crazy plan you come up with unless we actually have to use it, got it?" Brian grumped.

"Yeah, brah, I got you," leaving Face still smiling like a lunatic, Brian made his way to one of the blow up mattresses in one of the bedrooms. He really needed to get some sleep before he went to see Panning in the morning.

-(_)-

As senior agent in charge of the group, Penning was annoyed when O'Conner hung up on him last night, and he was even more annoyed when he showed up at the office wearing jeans, sneakers and a T-shirt. He bad mood went further downhill when Stasiak decided to jump on the "let's hate O'Conner" bandwagon and he snarled at the man to just shut the hell up. "What happened?"

As Brian explained everything, Penning had the sneaking suspicion that he was about to ask for something in return for his help in getting Braga. When he made the suggestion that they just take the shipment in this time, he saw Brian take a deep breath and calm down what could have been an impressive display of temper before he spoke out loud.

"We both know that even if we take this one shipment off of the streets, there will always be another one coming the next week. We have to make an offer in order to get Braga here in the city for an exchange. What's better-getting one shipment or getting the man behind the organisation and hanging him for everyone to see?" Brian returned, quelling the memory of the time during his capture when one of the terrorists had continuously injected one of the soldiers with pure heroin until his heart gave out. "If we get Braga off of the streets, I want one thing in return…no make that two things. One I want Dom's charges to be dropped. Not so that he only serves a minimum sentence, but that he doesn't serve them at all. Second, I want the Feds off my ass. I am sick and tired of them using me as some fucked up kind of scape goat and that they had better put my record back to its original state before they talked to Letty."

"Give me an hour. I have to make a call and see what my superiors want me to do," Penning sighed in resignation, watching as O'Conner and Stasiak left his office.

Visiting Trinh had been hard because she could tell just by looking at him that this would be the last time they would see each other in person. Though she was quite proficient with computers, her lack of human contact only made her that much more observant and with one glance she knew that he was leaving after this affair with the cartel.

"You better be safe out there, okay?" she whispered to him as she gave his hand a quick squeeze.

Forty minutes later, Brian was making a call, telling Dom that they had the go-ahead to call up a contact number that had been left for Brian when he picked up his GPS unit and arrange for Braga to deliver a small amount of money in exchange for the return of his drugs. There would be an FBI taskforce waiting in the shadows, literally, to swoop in and arrest the members of the cartel. He even provided a good place for an exchange where it would be open enough so as not to spook the others.

Dom made the call as soon as he hung up with Brian, first speaking to the lady whose voice had come over the GPS speakers during their drive through the desert and then to Campos as he informed the Mexican that he was the one who had the drugs and that Braga could have them back for a cool six million, a fraction of what the shipment was actually worth. He taunted the man by telling him that he was the one who would have to tell Braga that they had lost the shipment, which wasn't an appealing prospect. Campos snapped back an answer, saying that they would be there in two days at the meeting point, and that if no one was there, then the shipment wasn't worth the effort to get back, despite the monetary loss.

-(_)-

How in the hell did the F.B.I manage to fuck everything up? They had stormed the area without confirming that the old man really was Braga. It was only after Dom had escaped with the woman, Gisele, did they get word that their man was in the wind. Campos was Braga.

"What the fuck?" Face demanded when he entered the office, leaving Murdock to watch the safe house for any non-friendlies. "It really is sad when one agency can fuck things up so much and then try and blame one person for screwing their operation that was as crooked as bin Laden's alibi."

Excuse me, who are you?" another agent demanded.

"Oh, you mean that you don't know about me? I'm sorry. Let me introduce myself. I'm the one who can probably make you dig your own grave," Face turned stormy eyes in the agent in charge's direction. "I'm the one who would go to each and every news station and provide them with proof about the FBI's recruitment system. I know that you blackmailed Brian and Letty to help you catch Braga, and that you didn't care enough to launch an official investigation into her death. Image what kind of public outcry would result from the Ortiz family knowing how their daughter died, and then just imagine all of the disaster that would follow. All of those investigations into how you run this agency and into your personal life-nice mistress by the way-and then your decline from the federal chain of command." Pretending like there was no one else in the room, he continued. "Now, you are going to let Brian go and let him resign. You know what? Brian, just leave your G.I.s here and let's go."

Hiding a smile at the conman's handling of the situation, Brian followed once he had left his badge and weapon on the table. There were no words exchanged as the duo exited the building and climbed into Face's car, tires squealing as the engine was gunned.

Murdock was happy to see Brian, practically making the now former agent fall as soon as he was out of the car. He trotted beside the racers, chatting away in Persian with a British infliction, which made listening hard to do, but Brian managed it with flying colors, replying in kind, but leaving the accent alone.

Dom looked up from where he was tinkering away on his Charger, having bought another vehicle as soon as he could. Perplexed, he listened as the conversation flowed around him and shrugging away the fact that he couldn't understand a single word that was being said. Instead, he watched the interaction between the two, one a pilot and the other who was a racer at heart, and saw something that no one had ever seen before; the trust that came from watching each other's backs through hard times, like the battle fields overseas. That's when it hit him. Brian had been in the army, and it had to have happened after the last time he had seen him, leaving the man with the wrecked Charger.

Watching from the kitchen window, Mia saw the carefree man she remembered, laughing as he mock wrestled with the two Rangers. Shaking her head, she pulled out a head of cabbage and started on making coleslaw with a homemade dressing. Call it a woman's intuition, but she knew that they would need help from all three of those men before long, and she planned on making sure that they got fed for it.

Later, Murdock buzzed around the garage while Face helped Dom with the engine to the Charger. They had last seen Brian when he had left the group an hour ago. There had been knowing glances passed around, but no one spoke out loud. It could very well be the last night that anyone of them spent as a free man, and if one man wanted to sleep with the woman he loved, who was to stop him? They all knew that they would be leaving in the early hours of the morning and they all wanted to spend the time doing whatever they pleased. Weapons had been secured for the excursion and a helicopter had been "loaned" for Murdock to use; the plan was for the pilot to land the chopper just outside of the sensors that monitored the border and to take off in either direction if help was needed or if the mission went completely FUBAR.

"I want you to come back safe, okay?" Mia ordered the men as they prepared to leave the house, giving her brother a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

The unspoken meaning sat clear in the air; don't come back dead or in a coma. She wanted her family, and extended family by means of Face and Murdock, to be in one piece when she next saw them.

The last thing anyone of them saw was Mia's solitary figure watching them from the side of the road, reminding them that they had something to go back to, no matter what.

-(_)-

Having left Face and Murdock by the airfield a long drive back, Brian and Dom waited for their contact to drive up the small road that led to the top of the winding hill, each man not speaking because they knew what the other wanted; one to bring the man to justice and one to bring vengeance for the one that they had lost.

Alerted by the rising dust cloud, neither man was surprised when Gisele stepped out of her car to speak to the two men. "He is heading to the church to make his donation. He will not be there for long, but it will take him another thirty minutes to get there. He will be surrounded by five armed men who are his guards, but there is another entrance that you can use," she informed them. Looking at Dom, who was fingering Letty's cross necklace, she sighed at the slight lost look in his eyes that she could see. "She must have been a hell of a woman." She told him, climbing back into her car and leaving in another cloud of dust.

Exchanging looks, the two drove to the mentioned church, utilising the side door to gain access to the building. Inside, they saw Braga kneeling in front of a large stained glass window that depicted the crucified figure of Jesus. Stepping purposely up to the man, Dom racked the shotgun that he held and holding the barrel steady to Braga's forehead when he turned to investigate the noise.

"You kill me, and my men will come in a shoot you dead. You know that," he said. "You and me, we aren't so different…"

Dom cut him off. "We are different. I don't go around and kill anyone who works for me like you do."

"It is business," Braga said by way of explanation, closing his eyes when the shotgun was pushed closer to his face.

"I'm not going to kill you. You're taking a nice trip across the border. You are going to face the charges that the Feds want to pin on you," ignoring the look on Brian's face, he grabbed the handcuffs that he had stashed on his belt and used them to restrain Braga's hands behind him. Together, the men put him Brian's car and silently driving away until they hit the edge of town. They had a lot of miles to cover, and so little time before the guards realized that their boss was missing and the call to arms went up.

"Face, get ready! We have Braga with us and we're making a run for the border," Brian ordered through the military radio that Face had installed in his car.

"We'll be ready for you," the military hardened voice the belonged to Templeton Peck answered back through the open channel.

Braga stared at the driver for a long moment before he finally placed the face to a name. "You are Bullet, are you not?" he asked.

"Yeah, so what?" Brian snarled back.

"Let me go. I will give you as much money as you want," the cartel head said.

"And be your bitch until I get killed? I don't think so. Besides, you and your men killed one of my friends," Brian then turned his attention back to his driving, putting an end to the conversation. He cursed out loud when he was nearly blindsided by a car. Looking around, he realized that they were surrounded by at least twenty modified cars and trucks. Small arms fire peppered the back of his car, breaking the rear window, the glass slashing down on the bound Braga, causing him to cry out at the stupidity of some of his men.

"Go, Brian!" Dom shouted across the radio as he put his shotgun to good use. He blasted the front grill of one car, damaging the engine and the front axle of another. He was slowly being boxed in as the gangbangers drove with the purpose to get their boss back.

Blasting through the hidden mouth of the same underground tunnel that he had used while following Fenix's lead, Brian kept his speed in check, though he was doing a good forty over the American speed limit. The bumps to his back bumper annoyed him, especially when he saw Fenix in the car that pulled up beside him.

"Come on!" Braga called out, groaning in pain when Brian thudded him solidly in the ribs with his elbow.

Fenix smiled with grim satisfaction when his prey took the wrong tunnel, but he kept pace with the car, even through the hole that was made in the shoddy construction of the wall that usually kept it as a dead end. Pulling ahead, he deliberately slowed down, muttering under his breath as the other driver pulled off an incredible stunt of twisting agilely around one of the shoring posts by slamming into it. As small rocks began to tumble around him in response to an explosion farther down the tunnel, he slammed into the other car's passenger side, pushing them out of the tunnel as more dust and debris rained down. Fenix watched as the car flipped in front of him until it came to rest about thirty feet from where it had initially landed.

"Get me out of here," Braga moaned as he fought off waves of dizziness and pain. He had smacked into the dashboard and side window as they rolled, and he couldn't brace himself properly with his hands bound behind his back. Hands pulled him from the wreckage and Fenix braced him against the hood of his own car when there came another moan from the crashed car, followed by a thud as the driver's side door was kicked open.

Pain assaulted his senses, telling Brian that he had been severely injured in the crash. As he crawled out of the car, doing his best to ignore the burn in his arm and the tickle on his skin as his own blood dribbled from a cut on his temple, he slowly became aware of another presence. Adrenaline flooded his system, but it wasn't enough as Fenix violently closed the door and kicked him in the chest. Coughing, he couldn't avoid the second kick that sent him sprawling to the ground, holding back a cry as a rock dug into his back. Blinking his eyes, he saw the gun aimed in his direction before another sound penetrated his pain filled world.

Emerging from the dust cloud that was the result of the collapsed tunnel behind him, Dom pushed the gas pedal harder when he realized that Fenix had the drop on Brian. With the engine roaring in his ears, his sight reduced to what many referred to as tunnel vision, he missed the flash of the gun mere seconds before his borrowed car slammed into Fenix, pinning the man to the wreckage that he stood in front of.

"Pussy," he muttered, climbing out of the car and walking around the back of the car. Dom nearly paused in his steps when he realized that Brian had been shot and was trying to sit up. A quick scan of the wound told him that it was bad, and he had nothing to treat it with. "Keep the pressure on that." He ordered in a gentler tone, hearing the sound of a helicopter getting closer, and much further out, the sounds of sirens.

"We got to get you out of here, brah," Brian quietly said. His world seemed to be getting darker, but he wasn't going to see Dom in handcuffs if he could help it. As another wave of pain rode through his body, he gripped Dom's hand in a painful crush that ground bones.

"I ain't running anymore," Dom replied, waving Face and his pilot friend over once they landed. He wasn't going anywhere, judging from the iron grip that Brian had on his wrist. The cops would have to break Brian's fingers if they wanted to arrest him there.

Face fell into his training, assessing and cataloguing injuries, determining that the gun wound that Brian had sustained was putting the man's life in danger. He packed it with gauze and bound it while Dom held the man upright. Murdock, he noted, was getting the portable stretcher that they had packed from the helicopter. Good, they were going to need it.

Penning looked out from the windshield of the government sedan he was in, eyes wide as he took in the fact that there was already a helicopter on sight and that there was a man taking a backboard out of it. Someone was seriously injured and they more than likely needed immediate medical help. As he got closer, he could make out the form of Dominic Toretto holding O'Conner up in a sitting position, the other man who was defending the former federal agent applying gauze to a wound on his shoulder. Another look told him everything he needed to know. O'Conner had been gut shot and he was using these three men to stay in the material world and not pass away.

"Shit, Brian, it's your boss," Face hissed, setting the backboard in such a position so that it wouldn't cause the injured man much more pain than he was in when they moved him. Not that they would have to worry about it; he was clinging to Dom so tightly that it wouldn't take much to move him as painlessly as they could.

"He's not my boss. I resigned, remember?" Brian said tiredly as Penning reached their sides. "The damned FBI fucked with me too much this time."

Stasiak ran up to Penning's side. His eyes went wide when he realized who was in the group. "Toretto, you are under arrest," he crowed, hauling the man up by the arm. Unfortunately, since Brian was attached like a limpet, he cried out in pain from the sudden movement. Then he was the one to holler out as Face contributed in rearranging the agent's face.

"Keep your man in control, Penning, or I swear to God, I will sedate his ass and leave him out here," Face snarled as he checked over the recent damage. He didn't like what he found. "Murdock, get that bird warmed up. That asshole's actions caused a tear in Brian's side. We need to get him to a doctor, and fast, or we risk losing him. And if he dies, Penning, I'm suing your entire department. I might just do it even if he lives." Carefully, Brian was placed on the backboard and was carried to the helicopter, a police officer accompanying them.

Twenty minutes later, Murdock was landing on the helipad, letting his passengers disgorge so that they could hand Brian off to the doctors. By the time that they had arrived over the city, the man was ghostly white and just barely hanging on. The only thing that was making him stay alive were the constant threats he was receiving from Dom and Face, but even those weren't helping by the time the skids hit concrete.

The patrol officer who had come with them had been impressed at how much the injured man had been able to tolerate before passing out. He was close enough to overhear a particular phrase that would stick with him for a while to come.

"Stay alive, Bullet. I don't want to be the only one who remembers what happened in that tent in the 'Stan. Do you hear me? Live, or I scrap your Skyline," one of the soldiers had said seconds before doctors and nurses had swarmed the area.

-(_)-

Three weeks later, Brian was released from the hospital. His first clear memory since being admitted to the hospital was a shock to his system; he remembered the cops arresting Dom and dragging him out of the room, despite the fact that the doctors had discovered he was one of the few people who could keep him calm during the night. He had wanted to get out of bed and ask what was going on, but his eyes had slid closed on him instead. Things got easier after that, and his waking moments lasted longer and longer. Respectfully, the sentencing had been allowed to be postponed, even though there was no doubt as to what the outcome would be.

Sitting behind the reinforced glass barrier, Brian watched as Dom was led out. He felt Mia stiffen at his side when she saw the horrid orange jumpsuit on her brother's body and placed a comforting arm around her shoulders. Forcing himself to concentrate on the passing of the sentence, Brian promised that he would get his brother out before long.

"…At the Lompoc correctional facility, without the possibility of early parole," the judge banged his gavel, concluding the sentencing.

Brian didn't hear much more than that. He knew that Dom would be transferred the following day, and he had to make sure that everything was in place for the contingency that he had planned.

The next day, he was in the newly repaired Charger, leading the pack with Mia in a black Civic and Omar and Tego, friends or contacts of Dom's, driving another black car. Face was driving his car, protecting the rear. He would make sure that there would be no one following anyone after the prison break. He knew that Brian had to do this. He had tried to be on the right side of the law, but he had a racer's heart and soul, and there was no holding him back from freeing a member of his family. Watching from a high hill rise, he saw Brian and Mia take the lead; Mia driving headlong at the bus while Brian positioned himself further down the road.

Yeah, things would turn out just right.

_I am really sorry for the delay. Once again, I had to go and find my muse, and they were both reluctant to come back and help me work on this instalment. One has been living in another story reality, and has already planned one story and its sequel in record time, and the other has wandered off to find inspiration, I guess._

_So, here's the second chapter to __Between Family and Friends__. I hope that you enjoyed these two chapters so far, and if you noticed that this wasn't completely canon to the movie, good for you! I wanted to drift away a bit from the movie in order for Face and Murdock to be presented in this part. Please let me know what you think of them. I wasn't sure what Campos's first name was, so I chose Ramon. No disrespect was intended if I didn't get it right. I have many ideas for Fast and Furious crossovers, and some that aren't crossovers. I've decided to jump on the "Brian has a younger sibling" bandwagon, and I am still hashing out my ideas because as of now, the __only__ idea I have takes place right after the truck heist where Brian saves Vince's life. I am also planning a Fast and Furious/Hawaii Five-0 crossover where Danny and Brian are cousins and Danny has learned to race on the streets of Barstow over summer vacation and he will use his skill a couple of times on the islands, and HPD has given him his own race car, for police business of course._

_Thanks to Rika100 for being the first to review the first chapter. There will not be any m/m pairing, only regular canon, which means Mia and Brian as a couple, and I hope that you enjoy chapter two. I should have the third instalment out faster than the second. And I am glad that you found the concept interesting. I try to do interesting things for most of my works in progress, and hope that you can find more interesting things on my story list in the future._


	3. Chapter 3 part one

_Between Family and Friends_

-(_)-

One year.

Three hundred and sixty-five days.

When the number was compared to the amount of years he had served for his country, it didn't seem like much, but it was how long he and his team had been on the run. They had been played for engraving plates, and their commanding officer had betrayed them, turning dark for a cut of the profit that would have been made with the damn things.

Now, he really understood what Brian meant when he had said that he really hated politics: something interestingly different was always bound to happen, the man had said to his conman friend when he had been planning a breakout nearly two years ago.

Turning his attention to the car in front of him, the man known formerly as Lieutenant Templeton Peck, adjusted the nozzle on the spray gun to one of the thicker settings and applied a layer of silver paint onto the hood. Fine detailing sat behind him on a table, in both dark copper and a dark blood red, ready to be applied by brush. His latest car, a late model BMW with heavy modifications, was almost ready for the Conman to go out and take a spin to earn the team more money.

Before Brian had left to free Dom from the prison bus, he had given the former cop-turned street race-turned former federal agent all of the money that he had in L.A. There would be more that he would be able to get, and he still had at least sixty grand in Miami that he could use, if he ever needed it.

But it had dwindled fast with four men over the course of an entire year. Hannibal Smith never accepted payouts from their clients when they were the ones who desperately needed the money. So, Face resigned himself to stealing five grand from the "bank"; really, it was a locked box in the back of the van that they had appropriated from Miami, and he had traded his Impala for more than enough money to buy his current vehicle. He would have four and a half grand for his buy in at the local races, and he trusted Murdock with the other five hundred so the man could lay out his own bets and make a hefty profit.

Peeking into the garage, despite Face's threats to anyone who entered, Murdock whistled at the sight of the car. He entered when Face waved him in, hauling a large box on a trolley. "I got you your party favours, Facey," he said, stopping by the table and admiring the detailed sketches that had been laid out. "Do you think that you'll make a lot Saturday?" Murdock was the only one on the team who knew what Face really did, who he really was.

"It depends on how many there are at the site," Face answered, closing the plastic curtain and switching on the fan to expel the fumes and dry the paint, tossing his mask aside. "We need all the money we can get, Murdock, so I want to get as many as I can in one race, with the highest buy in I can have." Popping the top on a bottle of Corona, he settled on a chair and spread the sheets of paper out so that they could see what was on them. "So, which one do you like better?"

Murdock took his time, perusing every piece of paper. He found himself caught between two designs. One that was simple and beautiful, and the other that was elegant, but it gave off a fierce energy. "Can you put these two together? They just seem right," he answered.

"I'll draw something up," Face said and they left the building, heading up to the main house to catch up on what the other half of the team had learned about their latest job.

Saturday rolled around, and Face was shoving his feet into his sneakers when Bosco Baracus, B.A. to his friends, walked by the open door. "What are you doing?" he asked, his deep voice demanding answers.

"I'm just going out for a quick walk outside," hoping to hell that the large black man did not pick up on the fact that he and Murdock had been as thick as thieves in the last couple of days, Face shifted just enough to hide the small backpack that peeked out from under his bed.

B.A.'s eyes narrowed. "You're planning something, Face-man, I know it. You and the crazy man are planning something," he accused.

"Well, nothing big, B.A. We're going to pick up some surprise essentials that we need," twisting the truth that little bit helped things out a lot, Face found out when the other man grunted and kept on walking. Sighing, Face picked up the backpack that contained all of the money that he had taken, and undoubtedly would hold more before the night was out. He managed to get out the front door without getting questioned by Hannibal and he found Murdock waiting for him in the passenger seat of the finished BMW. Taking a few seconds to check out the bottles of nitrous to make sure that they were attached properly-he didn't want to end up a flaming wreck before he even got to the races-Face grinned as he slipped into the driver's seat. Everything was fine. With a flourish, he opened the garage doors with a remote and shoved the key into the ignition. The engine roared to life and he gunned it, trying to get out of there before B.A. or Hannibal stopped them.

The sound of a modified engine startled B.A., who was just going to get his customary glass of milk. Looking out of the window, he watched as headlights illuminated the yard before the car tore out and onto the main road. It took some serious skill in order to drive a car like he had just seen, especially on dirt roads at night: he knew that loose gravel was harder to drive on due to its tendency to let the vehicle slide around more than on hard packed dirt. His mind quickly made the connection. Either Face or the crazy fool was a street racer, and that it had been a car in the garage that they had been working on over the course of their latest case.

Hannibal, on the other hand, gave a startled shout when the engine growled out its existence. His cigar dropped to the floor and he hurried to pick it up, lest he burn the house down around them. He managed to catch the fading taillights when he looked back up, and a quick check confirmed the fact that B.A. was in the kitchen, so that left Face and Murdock unaccounted for. Puffing, he brought the cigar back to life and decided to wait up until the wayward duo got back from wherever they had gone.

The sight of scantily dressed women and cars made Face think of Brian. The other man was a good racer in his own right, having earned the nickname Bullet in record time. He missed his racing buddy, but he didn't regret helping him become a fugitive, or helping to plan the best way to get Dom free. Shaking those thoughts from his mind, Face parked his car and got out. He had his four and a half grand in his pocket, and Murdock had the other five hundred with him so that he could make his own bets.

Face sidled up to the man holding the most money, knowing that this was the man who was organizing the race. "What's the buy in?" he asked.

The man turned to him, surprise coloring his face when he realized that there was fresh meat in the crowd. "It's held at three and a half. Why? Are you interested?" he returned.

"I got four and a half that says that I can hold out on however many who wants to race against me, if they cough up another dime," Face replied, waving his wad of cash in front of the organiser's face. The amount he held was enticing to anyone, he knew. Besides, if no one knew who he was yet, well, the temptation to make a whole four and a half grand more would make things even better.

"Let's see who wants to make more than usual," nodding, the man left to make his rounds, asking who wanted to throw in another grand to take on the challenger, an out of towner. It didn't take long before there were four other drivers lined up at the starting line. "And your name is…"

Face let a shark-like grin appear on his face. "They call me the Conman," he replied.

Gasps arose from the crowd. Even on these back road races, they knew who he was. Suddenly nervous, the other racers who were sitting at the line began to bleat like scared sheep.

"Yo, man, you didn't tell us who we were racing!" one exclaimed.

"Hey, chicken shit. Are you too scared to race me? If you are, I'm sure that these nice people would let you leave, if that's what you wanted," Face shouted to be heard over the din, his tone mocking.

Suitably reminded as to who and where he was, the man settled down, ready to race despite his nervous disposition, something that was reflected by everyone at the line. But there was no time to think about it anymore as the flag was dropped and the drivers took off down the road, jockeying for the best of positions. The cars snarled and roared as they were pushed faster, their engines whining as nitrous buttons were pressed.

Face's BMW was no match for the others, and he zoomed across the finish line three car lengths ahead of the rest of the pack. Getting out and pocketing the keys, he headed straight for the organiser and collected his four and a half buy in, and his eighteen thousand dollar profit. The money would help the team out, and he was certain that he would need it to appease the two other men waiting for him and Murdock. Just as he was collecting the eccentric pilot, flashes of red and blue began to appear on the nearby trees.

"Cops!" a woman shouted, increasing the panic in the crowd.

Face just shook his head and started his BMW, tossing the wad of cash at his passenger so that he could concentrate on his driving. Sadly for the local sheriff's department, he managed to escape and not get caught, unlike some of the others, including one of his opponents.

"How much did we get?" Face asked.

It took the pilot a bit of time to count all of the money. "I've got twenty one thousand here, and I didn't count the five grand you stole," Murdock whooped.

Face let out his own loud laugh as he drove back to the house where the rest of the team was staying. He was planning on sneaking in and putting the money in the bank and taking off again to spend some more time away from the memories he knew would haunt him in his dreams. He managed to sneak by Bosco as he was watching out the front window and decided on holding off on putting all of the money in the van, grabbing a full twelve pack of Corona before sneaking back to his car instead. He drove off to a small outlook just off of the main dirt road and passed a can to his pilot friend while they sat on the hood and stared at the night sky, watching as the world turned until near the crack of dawn.

-(_)-

Hannibal was waiting for them when they pulled into the driveway, arms crossed and looking like a disappointed father who had learned that his son had snuck out of the house for an all-night party.

Face sighed. He knew that his little secret would be revealed sooner or later, but he had secretly hoped that it would have been later. By the time the two men made it up to the porch, the other half of the team was waiting for them, waiting for an explanation. "Inside?" he asked hopefully, wanting to sit down if he was going to tell the other two everything.

A minute later, Face found himself opening his mouth and letting the entire story pour forth, from the time that he and Murdock were on leave in Miami months after saving Brian from his torturers to when he had left for Letty's funeral and what had happened after the prison break. He answered further questions, including some about why he had helped Brian in the first place when he was in Los Angeles.

Hannibal and B.A. accepted the story and the facts that they had been presented with without a word. They knew that their conman had been hiding something, and though they never thought that this is what the answer would have been, they easily embraced the information.

"So, what did you do last night?" Hannibal asked, puffing on his cigar to make the embers flare and come back to life.

"I went to the local races. I took five thousand from the bank and gave five hundred to Murdock to use as he saw fit. The other four thousand five hundred I used as my buy in, and raced against four other drivers," Face answered vaguely. "Murdock?"

The pilot withdrew the bundle of cash from his pockets with his own flourish and handed it over to the team leader. "Twenty six thousand and change, boss, five thousand included," he replied, a large grin stretching over his face.

B.A. whistled, impressed with the amount of money that the crazy pilot had produced. As he mentally calculated the amount that Face would have won, a sudden thought hit him. "That's why I found a half full can of nitrous attached to my engine!" he yelped.

"Yeah, Brian was the one who fix her up, Bosco. He also designed all of those hidden compartments that he and Rome installed," Face said, idly wondering if the man had some sort of extra sensory perception or what. Because, really, who would have known that all of those compartments would have been in full use years after the van had been commissioned?

"He does good work," the black man nodded his appreciation, though he was a little upset that he was the one to find all of those little heart attacks. When he had first found the extra line leading away from the engine, he had freaked out, only to stop and wonder why there was a bottle of nitrous rigged to his baby. Now that he knew that a street racer had put it there, he felt a little comforted that there was something that they could use if they needed to get away from the lawmen who were chasing them in order to put them all back in jail-or in Murdock's case, an asylum.

"Is Brian a racer, too?" Hannibal asked.

"He is. His street name is Bullet, and he is a good racer in his own right. The story is, before I went to Miami that he would race like a zombie-no emotions and a cool stare. Bastard can do a hell of a lot of things that I can't yet like that drive and stare thing that Rome told me about," Face answered.

"'Drive and stare'?" B.A. inquired.

"He would drive up some street and while he was steering, he would stare at his passenger and hit the brakes perfectly at a stop sign. Rome claims that he was the one to have taught his 'white boy' that particular trick and he even claimed it in front of a deep cover Customs agent months after we rescued him," the explanation slipped from his tongue easily, and he found himself glad that he was able to share something that he loved with the team in its entirety, and, luckily, it was something that could help them out later when they were in a tight bind, whether financially or with the law.

The rest of the morning was spent outside, with B.A. checking out the BMWs engine with her driver while Murdock tried his best to make a design that he would love to see on a car in the future, but he was failing miserably if one could judge by the amount of crumpled paper strewn around him. Hannibal was busy working his way through another cigar while thumbing through the pages of the state newspaper, occasionally clicking on a nearby laptop so that he could compare each of the cases that the public was asking them for.

The roar of an engine had the older man looking up from his research, and he smiled when he saw B.A. sitting in the driver's seat of the customized BMW. Face was leaning in through the window and speaking to the big man before he pulled out and patted the roof of the vehicle. Almost cautiously, Bosco drove out onto the dirt road, gathering up enough courage to press harder on the gas so that he could test the modified engine. When he returned, he had his own smile on his face. It was clear that he liked the car and the power that thrummed under her hood.

"Okay, boys. I got our next case lined up," Hannibal called out from across the yard, passing out beers to each of his boys as they arrived.

They were heading to Colorado. A small community had posted online that they needed help to save their town from some greedy corporate man who was using a bunch of scare tactics to clear people out so that he could build a luxurious gated community. The local sheriff had been bought off, and even the deputies were doing nothing to stop the happenings. Face would follow the van, carrying all of the non-essentials so that there would be more room in the van if they needed to get something as they were driving up to the town.

Grabbing an energy drink, Face downed it in a couple of swallows before helping to load up the van and his car. Besides, he reasoned, if Murdock annoyed B.A. too much, he would be able to put some space between them by shipping the pilot over to the conman. Just as they were pulling onto the highway, Face's current burn phone rang out a hip-hop tune that told him who was calling before he even answered. "Hey, Brian. How are you?" he asked, activating the Bluetooth system so that he could keep both hands on the steering wheel so that he wouldn't be pulled over for endangering the other drivers on the road. "Did you find Dom?" The trio of fugitives had split into two groups so as not to be tracked as easily, but Dominic Toretto was one of the hardest men in the world to find.

"Not yet. We've managed to track him down to Rio; that's where we're heading now," the other man replied.

Face frowned at how tired the former federal agent sounded over the line. "Christ, man. Have you been getting any sleep lately?" he asked, shifting in his seat as he checked the gas level.

"I can't sleep, Face. The nightmares are really hitting me now," Brian said, yawning.

Forehead wrinkling in thought, Face suddenly realized what the date was. It was around this time of the year, nearly nine years ago now, that Brian had headed out with other Rangers and the like to calm down a dispute at one of the farthest tribes from their home base. It was nearing nine years ago that he had been captured and tortured cruelly, leaving him scarred for life, both physically and mentally. Nine long years since Face had entered that tent and had lost himself to the dark rage that lurked within him and killed all but one Afghani man who was responsible for what the squad had gone through.

"Are you going to be okay?" Face's voice was quiet when he asked the question. He had to remember to buy a case of beer-any kind would do-and get seriously hammered either before or after their current case, sensing his own dark feelings rise to the surface and threaten to spill over.

Brian knew that the conman was referring to the fact that he was on the run from authorities and could suffer from hazardous flashbacks and nightmares and possibly even depression, like he had in Miami when the two had met up for the first time since the rescue operation in Afghanistan. "I hope so, Face. I hope so," he murmured in response. A slight shifting beside him told him that he had to go. "Sorry, man, but I'm going to have to let you go."

"Okay, man. Don't forget to try and get some more sleep, okay? I don't want Mia or Dom or anyone else to end up calling me because you got killed or caught and thrown behind bars. You hear me?" Face demanded.

"Yeah, I hear you. I'll do my best, but I can't make any promises." Brian replied and he hung up.

Tossing the phone into the center console, Face did his best to keep his attention purely on the road. The talk had stirred up some seriously bad memories, and he wasn't too keen on reliving them as he drove, especially the more gore based ones that lurked silently in his subconscious mind. Heaving a great sigh, he called the burn phone that was in Hannibal's possession. He told the man that wherever they stopped, they would have to stay as far away from other people as possible, explaining that he had just spoken with Brian and that he was thinking about the tent.

Hannibal got the message loud and clear, knowing what his lieutenant meant. Even though had hadn't been the first one to go inside that tent, he could clearly remember the horrors of the blood splattered fabric, the stained tools of torture that lay carelessly on a simple wooden table, and the living marionette that had been strung up in the middle of the area. He could see the odd bulging on the man's body from his dislocated limbs, and the way that they were kept in such positions to ensure the most pain. Blocking the memory from fully forming in his mind's eye, he told Face that he would find them a secluded place to stay that night before completing the drive to Colorado to help the community free themselves from a corporate business man who cared for nothing more than making money.

-(_)-

Grimacing from the stinging wound in his side, Templeton Peck turned in his seat and reached for his bag. They hadn't accepted payment for the job in Colorado and for the two other small jobs after that, and so he had to go find a race in order to get some money in the bank. This time though, the entire team was going with him, and as tired as he was, he couldn't wait to see that reactions from the other half of his team when they experienced their first street race and the excitement of the race fans.

So, he got changed, checking his dressing to make sure that it was clean and dry, which it was. Shoving his feet into his shoes, he made his way down the stairs of the condo he had conned and out the door to make final checks on his BMW. A whoop informed him that Murdock was ready and making his own way out the door.

"Facey, we're ready!" the pilot sang out from the landing. The pilot was dressed in casual clothes; something that they had decided wouldn't attract attention to them in any way.

Nodding, Face stepped away from his car and waited for the last half of the team to arrive, sitting on the hood of the car. Not a minute later, the door opened and disgorged the two men they were waiting for. The team had rented a car for the night, so that they wouldn't have to drive around in the van; it would be instantly recognizable, and they wanted to remain incognito for as long as possible as Face secretly worked towards getting their pardon.

The drive to the gathering wasn't long, and seeing as he was the first on scene, he got to see the reaction of the two older men as they were finally exposed to the culture. Stepping out of the cars, they were assaulted by the sounds of multiple sound systems as they showed off which one was the loudest among them. Scantily clad women giggled at the men, some hanging off of their boyfriends' arms, or even a couple bent over an engine as they made final tune ups before their race.

Leaving Murdock to take charge of the rest of the team, Face wandered off with a large bundle of five thousand in his pocket as he went to find the organiser. He easily wrangled a spot in two different races. He knew that he would win, as he was accustomed to some of the tougher crowds of the big cities, and from what he could tell about these racers was that they weren't up to that level, and hadn't modified their engines a lot.

As expected, Face won his races, earning a nice profit of twenty five thousand dollars, almost twenty six when Murdock's pile was added in. B.A. was buzzing with excitement, the energy of the crowds getting to him and addicting him. Hannibal himself had enjoyed the experience, but he knew that he wouldn't be heading off to every race that they sent Face to when they were low on cash.

A cell phone ringing brought the team out of their celebratory mood after they arrived at the condo. A quick glance at the number didn't reveal who it was calling, but he soon had his answer when he accepted the call.

"Face, how do you feel about a high paying job?" Brian's voice asked him over the line.

-(_)-

With Mia's eyes staring knowingly at his, Brian ducked his head. He knew that she knew that he wasn't getting enough sleep, especially lately. He had only just managed to keep silent at Vince's place after waking up from a particularly bad nightmare that showcased him being tortured with the dead bodies of his soul family lying around him. He hated hiding behind a mask, but he felt like he needed to hide until he got himself under control without feeling the need to take to the bottle.

A movement at the back of the car alerted Brian to the presence of the man they were waiting for. "Showtime," he murmured to his girl, letting her get up first to deliberately bump into the man while he swiped the access card and copied the information on an electronic reader, passing the information onto a blank card. Passing the last rows in the car, he took note of two men wearing suits and the badges hanging on chains. Great, there were federal agents on the train with them. The difficulty level of their job just went up a bit with their presence.

Searching the compartments took a little time, but they eventually found the cargo that they were looking for. So far, the information that Vince had given them was holding water; he had told the duo that there were at least three cars being transported by train, and that the job was to get on the train and get the cars off before they got to their destination. After calling Vince and letting the man know which car they were to target, Brian and Mia got to work taking tarps and security harnesses off of the vehicles and tossing the keys on the front seat in order to accelerate the process. While they were doing this, acetylene torches were being used to cut an opening in the compartment's side.

Suddenly, the panel flew away from the car, causing four men to duck out of the way if they didn't want to get swept away and killed. The bright sunlight that flooded the car blinded the two inside, but when Vince spoke up about one man's long absence, Mia couldn't help but run at the familiar figure and hug him.

"God, I was so worried!" she exclaimed.

Dom's eyes lifted to meet Brian's. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

"I had to make a call. We weren't going to make it any further with what we had," Brian replied, shrugging.

"Hey, we only have this two minute window. Let's go!" one of the locals ordered, heading over to stand beside the two American racers. "_I'm taking the GT40_."

Brian mentally translated the Portuguese, subtly gesturing to Dom that Mia should take the car as the car that Vince was taking was yanked sideways out of the compartment and lowered down to the desert floor.

Mia slid into the GT40 while her brother and boyfriend caused a small distraction. "_Hey, this car suits me better_," she said in Spanish, waiting so that the pulley system was hooked up to the vehicle. The door opening alerted her to Dom's presence.

"Wait for my signal," he whispered to her. "Something's up."

She nodded and when the car was yanked out and lowered down, she executed a perfect turn and was heading away from the main highway, and instead driving for the harder packed dirt that would eventually lead back into the favela and to the storeroom that they were using.

"What is she doing?" the local to have claimed the GT40 in the first place demanded. When he got no answer, he turned back to the others on the buggy that was keeping pace with the train. "_Go get her!_"

Head jerking up at the command, Brian tossed a look at Dom before jumping onto the buggy and throwing the pulley operator off before turning to the driver. As they drove over the bumpy ground, and with Brian trying to avoid being burned by one of the acetylene torches, he wasn't aware that they were heading back to the train until they crashed into it, nearly derailing the baggage car in front of the one he had just come out of. Shaking away the cobwebs that littered his mind, Brian noted that the driver was dead. A sudden whoosh drew his attention to the canister of compressed gas, horrified to see that it was on fire. Scrambling away from the growing blaze, he just managed to get to the other side of the vehicle before it blew. The flames pushed him out and he found himself hanging by one hand above the desert floor speeding below. Something flashed in his line of sight, and his stomach churned.

"There's a bridge ahead!" he shouted when Dom poked his head out of the hole in the compartment, hoping to hell that the man would have something to get him out of this mess. Dimly, he heard the sound of gunshots echoing inside the car, and then silver flashed out of the corner of his eyes. Dom was driving the remaining car out of the hole and struggling to get it under control after the sudden landing. Clambering up to a part of the buggy that wasn't on fire, he waited for the right moment and leapt onto the back of the silver vehicle as it drove up in front of him moments before the buggy crashed against the bridge.

Speeding up to avoid the flaming wreckage that tumbled behind him, Dom worried that this would be one of the times in his life if he ever got to see Mia again, or if he was going to see Letty in the afterlife. As the car drove over the cliff and plunged down to the blue waters below, he levered himself out of the driver's seat, glad that this car was a convertible and pushed off before the frame hit the water. Surfacing, he cleared his throat and nose of any excess water, and turned to Brian as the blonde broke through the water not five feet away.

"You had to make a call, O'Conner?" he sputtered in a growl. "Shitty ass call."

Brian nodded at the words. The two men became aware of what sounded like jeeps pulling up to the water's edge and the firearms that were aimed and cocked in their direction. Understanding the message, they made their way to the shoreline and didn't make a move as they were bound at the wrist and forced to sit in separate vehicles with guns aimed at their bodies.

A drive that lasted an hour later, they were being shoved into a warehouse by their captors. Stumbling into one of the rooms, Brian went pale and unconsciously started begging desperately in a foreign language, but that didn't stop the thugs as they strung up the former federal agent up by his bound wrists, high enough so that his feet weren't touching the floor. Dom was lucky, on the other hand. If he stretched just enough, his toes could graze the ground, giving him a false sense of security. Minutes later, another man showed up, dressed in a pale beige suit.

"You two caused quite a bit of trouble today," the stranger started. "I do not know how you Americans do business, but here in Rio, I prefer it if everybody was on the same page."

"Yeah? It works both ways, you know," hiding the tremble in his voice was hard, but Brian seemed to manage it just fine, calling upon a condition he had been forced to learn when he was a young boy. He hated the sound of rattling chain links, and he absolutely hated the way that he felt like a coward, but he had no control over such mental reflexes, as past experiences had taught him.

"Perhaps, but you weren't allowed to know everything that my men knew," the man said. "Now, where is your sister? I've heard that she is a beautiful woman. It would be such a shame for something to happen to her. No one needs to get hurt." He directed his inquiry to Dom, trying to invoke a reaction that he could use.

Brian jerked in his bindings before stilling. This was exactly what the suit wanted. Taking a deep breath, he spoke out loud, beating Dom from saying anything. "This roofing plastic says that you're full of shit," he said with a slight snarl to his voice, his tone driving home the fact that the rest of this conversation was a moot point and that it wasn't worth continuing.

Heaving a sigh, the suit turned and left, leaving instructions with his minions to do whatever they could to get the location of the car, or the girl.

Dom breathed steadily through his nose, taking in the sight of the thugs approaching both him and Brian and the sounds of the slight whimpers that were coming from his friend, his brother, were tearing at him. A small voice in his mind told him that whatever Brian had suffered through during his short tour in Afghanistan still haunted the man and that he had to get him down soon or he would suffer through a panic attack of epic proportions. As soon as one of the two men was close enough, he swung a leg in front of him, sweeping the man over to Brain, who didn't waste the opportunity to wrap his legs around the exposed throat and break the fragile bones of the man's neck. Snapping the bindings that held his wrists immobile, Dom quickly put down the other man, hard.

Harsh panting made Dom turn to see Brian squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to curl in on himself, putting more pressure on his wrists. "Take it easy, man," he soothed, finding a chair to stand on so that he could free the former soldier.

Brian felt the ground beneath his feet and then he was off to the nearest corner, no longer holding back as his body started to rebel against him. It was hard to empty his stomach contents with his hands bound in front of him, but he somehow managed. Spitting the fowl tasting bile out, Brian felt the cool edge of a glass tipping its contents over his lips. "Thanks," he rasped, rubbing his wrists once they were freed.

"Whatever you went through, it never left, did it?" Dom asked.

"No, it didn't," Brain answered. "Like I told Rome when we opened our garage in Miami, there are things that will set me off, like chains and darker skin tones, and my rational self just takes a back seat."

Dom nodded, wondering if the man had ever been told that he suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder. Of course, if he had been told, it probably would have been brushed away because it didn't rule the entirety of his life. "Let's go. We have to find out why they wanted that car in particular," he said, getting up from the hard packed ground he had been kneeling on beside Brian and holding a hand out for him to take. His fingers curled gently around the shaking hand as it was placed in his and he hauled the smaller man to his feet. It surprised him when the shorter man leaned fully on him for a moment, savoring the trust that was being placed on him, because he knew that it was hard enough for him to admit that he often needed help from those closest to him.

He wouldn't let Brian down; especially with the fragile burden he had been given.

-(_)-

Mia listened silently to the radio as a woman reported on the train incident, telling the entire country that three American were responsible for the deaths of the federal agents that were on the train. Resisting the urge to bury her head in her hands, she immediately turned the radio off and grabbed a nearby tire iron when she heard something clatter to the ground just outside the door. Hiding behind a pillar, she waited, ready to strike out if the incoming person meant her harm.

"Mia?" Brian's voice called out.

Hiding the frown at the sound of the slight tremble in her boyfriend's voice, she smiled at him and rushed to hug him close, kissing him on the cheek as her brother wandered in. Giving him a hug of his own, she allowed him to take the bar out of her hands so that he could admire her weapon of opportunity.

"Just like a Toretto," he commented, dropping it back on the table from where she had grabbed it from.

"They're blaming us for the deaths of the agents," she reported, gesturing at the silent radio as she sat down on a stool.

"But we didn't do it," Brain said, taking a mental step back and continuing his thoughts. "But we'll be hunted and set as an example so that everyone knows no one tolerates it when federal agents are killed, especially in a foreign country."

Dom nodded. "Right now, we have to find out why they wanted this car," he told the other two. They agreed on just taking the entire vehicle apart, despite the fact that it was a beautiful piece of art.

Hours later, and only half of the car had been disassembled when Vince ambled in through the side door. "I was wondering where you had gotten to," he said, leaning up against the same post that Mia had used previously.

It was all Brian could do to stop himself from strangling the man. "You know that they double-crossed us, right?" he asked.

"All I know is that they wanted the cars, but they didn't tell what they wanted them for. All I was told was to deliver them to a warehouse and leave with the money that they were paying us. Now that this car was taken and those _federales_ killed, no one's getting paid and there are men out on the streets trying to find you," Vince explained, a hand running idly over the scars on his arm; a memory of a time when he thought that he was going to die, and when he found out that the new guy was actually a cop.

Dom shrugged and waved Vince away, sending him to get something to eat. As much as it pained him to admit it, there was something off about Vince when he compared his actions to what he knew and what he had witnessed that morning. He would have to keep a close eye on the other man over the next little while.

-(_)-

It was hard trying to sneak around all of the pieces of the GT40 that lay on the floor, but he managed quite beautifully. Reaching for the GPS unit that had been mounted in the car before it was extracted; Vince had his hand on the chip when a voice stopped him cold in his tracks.

"I almost wish I hadn't seen that," Dom rumbled from the darkness.

"Look, man…" Vince tried to explain, but he flinched when Dom backed him into a support column.

"Mia was on that train, Vince. My sister!" Dom growled, his dark eyes flashing with barely restrained anger.

"They promised me that no one would get hurt! Damn it, Dom, you know that I wouldn't put her in harms' way," Vince returned. "All they wanted was the chip. I don't know why; I wasn't paid to ask questions."

It took more effort than he thought he would have needed, but Dom was nearly panting in anger when he slammed his palms against that concrete on either side of Vince's head, instead of planting his fists in the man's face. "Get out," he whispered, struggling to contain his emotions so that he wouldn't do something drastic, like killing the man in front of him.

"What?" Vince demanded, incredulous that he was being asked to leave.

"Get out!" Dom roared, not even bothering with lowering his tone or volume as he started to lose control.

Mia stumbled out of the room that they had converted into a bedroom. She had gone to sleep with Brian hours ago, but mostly because it was because she wanted to keep an eye on Brian's sleeping habits. "What's going on out here?" she sleepily asked.

"You never trusted me!" Vince accused. He was about to say more when a piercing scream echoed around them. "What the fuck?"

Now completely awake, Mia bolted for the bedroom, her brother following closely behind her. Brian's naked torso was twisted into what seemed like the most uncomfortable of positions, scars shining dully against bronzed skin that was now pale from nightmares. He pleaded with unseen tormentors, begging to be left alone, to not hurt him, to not touch him. As Vince entered the room, another bloodcurdling scream was wrenched forth, the body convulsing violently against the worn mattress as the blanket was twisted further over tense legs, constricting their movement and causing even more fear to emanate from Brian's figure. A dull pop told the trio that his shoulder had dislocated and would need to soon be fixed.

"What's happening?" Vince asked, staring at the disturbing image of the former cop twisting to escape an invisible torment, struggling to free himself as if his limbs had been tied to something.

"He was arrested and jailed in Lompoc after he let me go, Vince, and then he signed up for a tour in Afghanistan as a translator when the position was offered to him, and that clearly didn't go well," Dom quietly answered, running a hand through sweat soaked blond hair, trying to calm the man down enough so that he could fix his shoulder and let him sleep peacefully for the rest of the night. "Just leave, Vince."

He needed no other prodding. Vince left his former family, and the chip, behind as he contemplated what he had just seen, trying to understand what could cause another human being to hurt another in such a manner.

The following morning, Brian was seated by the table, trying to ignore the fact that he had woken up with both Torettos in the same room as he was. Vague memories had assaulted him, and with it, the dull pain that spoke of a limb that had been dislocated during a nightmare. Ashamed, he hid in the bathroom until he felt composed enough to make an appearance with the outside world, setting up primitive alarms with broken glass bottles just meters from the main points of entry. It was reassuring to him to know that they had an early warning system.

Inserting the GPS chip back into the device, he turned it on and navigated his way through the contents. The fact that the chip was a list of all the cash houses in Rio was a big surprise. As he finished explaining to both brother and sister about how most dealers weighed their money instead of counting it, there came the sound of glass crashing to the ground outside-the sound told them that there were unwanted people waiting for a signal to crash inside. Slipping the chip into his pocket, Brian gestured to the siblings to leave via an open window, feeling splinters hit his skin as slugs slammed into the wall, being the last one to leave. They split up, Brian taking Mia with him to protect her from their pursuers.

The soldier deep inside Brian's mind screamed at him to move it, before he or Mia was captured. He also knew that they were being hunted by another group, and then his suspicions were confirmed when he could vaguely hear gunshots from various weapons in the distance. Ducking into a vacant doorway, he hid Mia behind him, searching desperately for their pursuers: he was glad to see that no one followed them. Then they were off again, meeting up with Dom at a predetermined spot near a sewer line.

Silently, in a single file, they wove their way through the manmade tunnel, slowing to a creep when their paranoia got the better of them until they finally came to the end of the proverbial road. Dom took the lead, leading the others out.

"We have to split up," he rumbled.

"No!" Mia vehemently protested.

"He's right. What happens next time and they corner us with no way to go? I won't have you behind bars. _We need to split up_," he said, hoping to emphasize that this was the best thing to do at the moment.

"I'm pregnant," the words spilled from her mouth before her brain could catch up and stop them, trying to hide something that her heart wanted so desperately to share. Mia stared at the two most important men in her life as they processed the information, the reality of the two words hitting them hard.

"Really?" Brain gasped, the fact that he was going to be a father not quite settling home just yet.

"Yes," Mia confirmed, kissing him gently on the lips. Turning to her brother, she sighed at his partially blank expression. "I lost my family, Dom, and then I got them back. I don't want to through that again."

Those words drilled through his frozen consciousness. Dom stepped forward and hugged Mia and Brian to his broad chest. "Our family just got bigger," he murmured, feeling the rough, calloused hand that belonged to Brian rub him on his head. He allowed the action, instinctively knowing that the more that he allowed Brain to do, the more that he would trust him.

-(_)-

Later that night, when Mia was sleeping on an old rattan chair and covered by a blanket, the men stood guard outside on the balcony, drinking the local beer. The full moon nearly overpowered the few streetlights that worked in this part of town and stars twinkled above them as they steadily turned, following the motion that their ancestors had.

"What do you remember about your father?" Brian's voice was quiet as it asked the question.

Turning to look at the other man, noting that he was still staring up at the stars, Dom took a sip of his beer and cleared his throat, images of the inquired being flashing before his mental eye. "He was a good man. Every Sunday, we would go to church, and then invite people back home for a barbeque; of course if you didn't go to church, you didn't get any barbeque. He'd work hard all day long, and when we got home from school, he would sit and help us with our homework. He would even stay up late in order to read the next chapter in Mia's book just so that he could help her the next day," he answered.

Brian hummed, idly processing what he had just been told. "I don't remember much about my father. I mean, yeah, he was around, but he was always so wound up. He'd started to drink heavily and he'd bring prostitutes home when mom was at work, and when she finally found out what was going on, he just beat her until she couldn't get up any more. She lost herself to depression, especially after he hit my little sister so hard that her skull fractured and she died," Brian whispered, draining the rest of his beer in one gulp, toying with the label. "I don't know what to do anymore."

Dom internally cringed at the information that he had just been given. Yes, he had known about the youngest O'Conner, but he hadn't known what had happened to her. Shaking his head, he laid a large hand on the other man's shoulder. "You're going to be a good father, Brian. And that kid is going to have the best uncle around, especially when their father needs a little reminder," he told Brian. "Come, on, it's time that you went to bed. We have a plan to coordinate tomorrow."

The night passed without incident, and the rising sun found the trio assessing their priorities. Leaning up against a railing that tourists sometimes frequented, they tossed around ideas, hoping to find something that would solve everything.

"We know that Reyes has cash houses all around town. We need to get a crew together and show him that we don't take threats lying down," Dom said. "We need someone who can bullshit their way into or out of anything, someone who can see what kind of walls this jackass has for security and someone to knock them down when the time comes."

Brian nodded. He knew some people back in Miami who wouldn't turn down the job, if only for the thrill of the chase. "We need someone who can provide us with protection and someone who can blend into the crowd and gather some of the information that we need," he added

"And, lastly, we need two precision drivers," Dom finished with a large grin on his face.

"Oh, you know that we got that," Brian gave his own grin, fishing his phone out of his pocket, planning on calling the three people that he knew who were the best in their fields.

Rome and Tej were easy to convince, especially when the total sum of money was mentioned. They both said that they would be heading out as soon as possible.

Brian heaved a sigh as he punched in the latest phone number that Face had given him. He waited while it rung on the other end before it was picked up.

"Hello?" Peck's voice answered the phone.

"Face, how do you feel about a high paying job?" Brian asked.

"Why do I have a feeling that you stepped into some kind of deep shit in the south, Bullet?" Face asked.

"Maybe because we have, brah. We somehow managed to piss of the most powerful man in Rio, some dude name Hernan Reyes, and now we're planning to steal all of his money. The guy has millions in cash houses, and we're getting a crew together. Are you in?" Brian questioned the other former soldier. Although, he knew that there was no such thing as a former soldier, he considered the team as such because they were being hunted by the authorities.

Muffled voices echoed faintly over the open line and then Face was back, speaking over Murdock's excited whoop and B.A.'s grumbling. "We'll scam our way down in a while. When do you need us to be there?"

"Let's call it on in two weeks from now, so that we can give enough time for the others to get here as well," Brian offered.

"Sounds good to us," Face agreed, and with a quick promise to update the team on the plan, Brian hung up, taking a deep breath in order to calm shaking nerves. He could already feel the adrenaline flooding his system whenever he thought about their upcoming heist, but right now, he had to start making plans and backups. He knew that if the team managed to get down in time, their plan A wouldn't hold water well to what Hannibal would concoct, so a single plan was out of the question.

Still, he thought as he sat down with the siblings to toss around ideas, it would be interesting to see how the crews of the racing world would react to the only team made famous by their daring escapes from military prison.

-(_)-

_Okay, so here's the first half of the third chapter. Once I chase down my muse once again, I will post the other half and it will be the last one for __Between Family and Friends__, until the sixth movie come out in 2013. So, I planned this chapter to be played in such a way that we were with the A-team at first until Face gets the call, and then I would switch POVs._

_To clarify any confusion that may occur when reading these chapters, and the following, I am NOT following the movies to the exact dialogue or actions. I am using them as a baseline and working my way from there. I never meant for anyone to think that I was completely merging the two franchises together, but I am creating my own universe by combining the two. It's called FAN FICTION and I using a writer's creativity to get the results that I want, which is what I write. Sorry for any type of confusion that was created._

_Thank you for those who have reviewed, or placed this story on alert, and for those who will do so in the future. I appreciated the words I have received, and hope that you like what I write in the future. This journey was the product of a brain wave that hit me out of the blue back in November, I believe, of 2011, after I had bought Fast Five. I want to hear what you think of this idea, so hit that review button, if you so please!_


	4. Chapter 3 part two

_Between Family and Friends_

-(_)-

The two weeks that the trio had given themselves to prepare seemed to fly by. They had multiple half baked plans on how they were going to take Reyes's money, but nothing concrete, especially given the fact that they would have to tweak them when they discovered anything new or unexpected. Brian had been in charge of finding them a good base, and he had found them an abandoned factory with a raised platform in one of the rooms. It was large enough to accommodate everyone who was coming and then some and they sparsely furnished it with cots and mattresses and couches that they found on the side of the road or in other abandoned buildings.

Brian was currently working his way through some blueprints of the general areas of the cash houses, trying to get a sense of what lay in store for them, and what kind of panic they could cause when he heard the distinct sounds of two engines. Looking out of one of the nearby windows, he saw a dark-skinned man get out of a taxi and walk their way. Another check through another window showed him a black car that he had never seen before, and he wasn't sure that he could identify the model, driving up to the main factory door. It looked like some of their hired help was starting to arrive. He ducked inside when he heard the racing engine of a motorcycle slow down near the end of the road.

Let the fun begin.

As Tej and Rome fist bumped, the long, lean form of a woman appeared, riding the bike inside and performing a beautiful short stop just mere feet from the two men.

"Whoa, baby. Hey, when do you spread your legs, beautiful?" Rome leered appreciatively at the figure, admiring the leather covered curves.

A gun came up swinging as Gisele tossed her helmet aside. "I'll spread them when I pull this trigger. How does that sound to you?" she replied in an overly sweet voice.

Cackling laughter echoed around them as two Latinos approached the group. "I told you she had some balls," one of them said in Spanish, smacking his companion when he uttered an annoyed affirmative.

Watching from a hidden corner, Brian, Dom and Mia held their laughter when Rome got into Leo and Tego's faces and as a spry looking oriental man appeared beside Gisele, holding an open bag of potato chips and commenting about how he thought that cock fights were not allowed in the country. Introductions took nearly no time at all, and Dom got the message when Brian told him that Rome and Tej knew about his past.

"Did you call Ranger?" Rome asked out of the blue, using his own nickname for the conman racer.

"I did. It looks like he and the team are going to be a little late," Brian returned.

"Late my ass, Bullet. Nothing was going to make me late when you told me about the money," Face's voice echoed strangely from the open door, and he eyed Gisele, giving her a wide berth, exhibiting rare caution.

"Hey, Face, Murdock," Brian acknowledged the conman and the pilot. "Where's the rest of the team?"

"We got another job just as we were heading out. Hannibal took B.A. with him, and told us that he would rendezvous with us later if we still needed their help and if they finished early," Face replied.

The other four who did not know Brian stared at him, wondering when the A-team had come into play. They wanted answers, and they didn't want to wait for explanations.

"Who called you guys?" Gisele asked, ignoring Face as much as he was ignoring her. She recognized him when he and the pilot walked in, having to go undercover with the conman five years ago. Even though the way that they had gotten their results was spectacular, she vowed never again to be in the same vicinity as the team, certain that their particular brand of crazy was contagious.

"Brian did. We're here for all the fun and chaos that the Gods will allow us to have," his speech turning into nearly unintelligible babble, Murdock whooped and made a beeline for the blueprints. "Hey, Facey, think you can come up with a plan like you did for when we took down Pike and Lynch?"

Sighing, the conman turned to the pilot, taking a look at some of the blueprints that had been gathered. "I can try, but, you know how that turned out, Murdock," he said.

With a grunt, Murdock switched his attention to the translator, his train of thought turning to how he thought how the man looked, and started recommending random cures that he had learned through the ability to read thoughts all over the world. The oddly strange thing of it all was that Face was ignoring the exchange and Brian seemed to be taking the information to heart, promising to try as many of them as he could. The duo changed languages, and continued their conversation, commenting on someone named Billy.

Face sniggered. The last time Murdock had brought up the Billy subject, B.A. nearly had a coronary before chasing the eccentric pilot around a forest, swearing to beat him to a pulp when he caught up to the man. Murdock had scurried up the nearest tree like a squirrel in order to escape, and refused to climb down until the following morning, though he had accepted the offered blankets and plate of food.

It was soon apparent that no one was going to get a straight answer, so they got underway, planning out escape routes and some of the specifics of the heist that they would pull off. Rome, as his usual self, made a bit of a scene, but he eventually came back around and joined in on the plan, even though part one made him cringe every time he thought about it.

"But why the money?" he complained to Brian as they were making their way to one of the known cash houses.

"You know why, Rome," Brian sighed.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. But it doesn't mean that I have to like it," the man returned, tempted to cross his arms and pout like a five year old, but he held back the urge. Instead, he slid the ski mask down his face and grabbed the automatic rifle he had been given and exited the parked car.

Tego approached the door and knocked on the wood, removing his sunglasses from his face when a small sliding door opened, revealing a pair of wary eyes. Seconds passed like hours before the latch was unhitched. Tego kicked the door open the rest of the way, allowing the rest of the crew access to the room.

Brian followed Face and Murdock in a partial combat crouch, sweeping his rifle around to make sure that there was no one creeping up on their six. As he split from the two and covered another area, he barely registered the startled screams and shouts from the women counting the money or the guards. Instead, he smashed the butt of his rifle into the jaw of one of the guards when the man went for his own gun. Being one of the few with the most experience with prisoners, he and the other two soldiers stood guard over the group, while the rest of the crew gathered up all of the money that they could find and placed it in the middle of the room.

"Do you know who you're stealing from?" one of the guards demanded, ignoring the blood streaming from his nose or the fact that there were weapons trained on him. He didn't care that the other guns were aimed at the others he worked with; he was only interested in saving his own hide from the masked gunmen. "Do you know whose money you are taking?"

"We aren't taking it," Dom replied, peeling the mask from his face, signalling the others to do the same. Grabbing the metal canister from beside his feet, he upended it over the stack of money and flicked open a lighter, tossing the flame on the gasoline soaked paper. He and his crew watched as the pile began to burn in earnest before he faced the speaker again. "You let Reyes know who did this, who burned his money. You tell him that there's more coming." Stepping back, he led the way out the door, letting the former soldiers cover their six.

"What now, big guy?" Hans asked once they were back at the warehouse.

"Now, we stake out the other cash houses and let them lead us to Reyes' hidey-hole," Face replied, leaning lazily against a support column. "He's going to feel threatened by what we just did. We attacked him on his turf, so he's going to take all of his money and bring it all to one spot to keep a better eye on it. There are only two things that'll slow us down. One, he'll have better security, and they'll most likely be armed to the teeth with orders to shoot to kill. Two, we don't know where he'll put it all. The only thing that's in out favor is that we know where all of the houses are."

Dom nodded, agreeing with the conman, picking up where he left off. "We stake out the other houses until someone comes to collect the money while someone takes advantage of the high ground and keeps track of all that happens," he said.

-(_)-

Gathering around the edge of the rooftop, Brian hid a wince. Reyes really had _serious_ brass in his pockets if he could hide his money in a police station. Of course, it threw a wrench in the plan, but he had long since learned that there was never any sure way that a plan would stick to its script. As the drivers spoke amongst themselves, Brain turned to the two former rangers behind him and asked them what they thought.

"Sure, it'll take a little time to get through that kind of security, and if it comes down to it, Hannibal will gladly lend us a plan if we ask him, but it shouldn't be too hard. All we need are schematics of the place and a distraction," Face said, idly watching as Murdock started to investigate a crack nearby.

It was decided that Mia was the one who was going to go get the copy of the police station floor plans with Face tailing her to make sure that she wasn't spotted by anyone who worked for Reyes. When she came back with the plans in her hand and a large grin on her face, Brian smiled at her. He was glad that Mia was finding some of her personality that she had lost little by little when they first became fugitives, and was even happier that they would soon be parents.

"This is where he'll put the money, in the evidence room vault," he said, taping his finger against the paper.

"Uh, there is one little problem with having the money in a police station; Five-0, pigs, po-po, whatever. It's full of people we generally don't like and try to avoid," Tej said, drawing everybody's attention to his hunched form.

Dom smiled at Tej's comment, but when he spoke, his tone didn't show his amusement. "We still need to get eyes and ears on the inside before we go any further," he said, folding his arms and leaning against the closest support column that was by the table.

"Who's supposed to do all of this shit, man?" Rome complained, visibly starting when the rest of the team gave him looks at his outburst. "Hey, brah, what do you mean?"

"It's because you got the biggest mouth out of all of us," Brian muttered in response.

"Ain't that the truth," Tej replied, ducking under a playful swing from the other man.

-(_)-

Dressed in simple casual clothing, Rome walked through the swinging double doors of the police station, carefully balancing the box he was carrying. Nodding to one of the passing officers, he came to a stop outside of an office with a glass partition that took up part of the wall. For the hell of it, he decided to flirt with the woman on the other side of the glass, even though she wasn't his type. He mentally scowled when she was replaced with her superior officer, and let out a silent curse when the man noticed the discrepancy on the badge that he flashed. Smoothly, he handed the box of evidence over and thanked the man in his own unique fashion.

Leaving the station was another adventure all together. There seemed to be more cops that there was when he walked in. A look at the closest public clock told him that it was normal as it was shift change. Ducking into a parking structure, Rome made his way to a nearby panel van and got in, teasing the two men inside about how fun it was to go inside the police station and get out without anyone the wiser.

"Okay, then. Let's get our first view of this vault, shall we?" Tej asked, thumbs manoeuvring around the control panel of the remote controller he held. The TV screen in front of his was black as pitch, telling him that their little remote camera was still in its hiding spot. When he was sure that the coast was clear, he cleared the little car of the box, driving erratically around, trying to find out where the vault was, and crashing into random shelving units as he went.

"I can see why you're always getting into accidents if a damn remote control car is giving you trouble, man," Rome commented just as Tej found the vault in question. Fiddling with another set of controls, he adjusted the camera so that he could get a better look at the vault.

"What is that, six by twelve?" Brian tossed out when they were back at the warehouse.

"Nah, it's a seven by twelve. Fitted with eighteen inch steel reinforced walls with an insulated copper core to protect against thermal lance," Tej corrected the translator. "She has a class three electronic lock with a sure-fire griffin re-tumbler and a biometric palm scanner; ten tons of top-of-the-line security."

"Is that good or bad?" Rome asked, not understanding much of what was said.

"It doesn't matter how much you love this baby, Rome, 'cause in the end, she's going to be a bitch to open," Face answered from the side, reviewing the footage that the trio had brought back with them.

"I understand how Face knows a lot of this stuff, but what about you, Tej?" Brian asked

"I had a life before you knew me, O'Connor," Tej replied. "Let's leave it like that."

Just as the translator was about to make a sarcastic remark about Tej's history, Murdock blasted by them, whooping and hollering to his gods of chaos while waving a cell phone wildly around.

Face stared uninterestingly at the pilot as the man tried to be a spider monkey, or something of the like. "Yeah, I got a call while you were out shooting your home movies. Hannibal and B.A. will be down in a couple of days. They'd take a plane, but between the team being wanted fugitives and the fact that we have to drug the big guy any time we have to go near a plane, we figured that it would be a better idea if they just snuck their way down instead of Hannibal dragging B.A.'s drugged form all over and garnering too much attention," he said, turning his full attention to the pilot. "Murdock, I'm going to need you for the next couple of hours."

"Where're we going, Facey?" no one could deny that the man could switch his focus so completely at a few simple words.

"You and I are going to recon where Reyes goes during the day, so we're going to play tourists. We need to get as much information about him before we hit him," Face told his teammate.

"Ah! Face-man, I don't want to be the special needs guy again!" Murdock whined, folding his arms across his chest and pouting as cutely as he could, which made him resemble a grotesque Halloween mask instead.

"I know you don't, but you're the only one who can pull it off better than any one of us," Face soothed.

Mollified, Murdock walked away in order to get some things together. The team, on the other hand, watched in stunned silence at the ease of which Face had handled the situation, avoiding a potential argument that could have been loud enough to wake the proverbial dead and spanning multiple languages. Minutes later, Murdock showed up again, carrying a small tourist-like backpack and armed with second-hand cameras and hats. No one asked where the pilot had acquired the items, and a few weren't sure that they wanted to know.

No one paid special attention to the two men as they wandered the streets, and they paid even less attention when Murdock played his eccentricities to the hilt. But, seeing as they would be recognized the longer they hung around the beach side club, Face and Murdock left the area, completely missing the unique way Gisele got Reyes' handprint, because, really, was some about to put someone else's handprint on a vault that held millions in cash when it didn't even belong to the second person.

As they wandered back in the warehouse bearing bags of food, they heard Tej and Rome making fun of Gisele and Han while she held a piece of material and a UV light.

"I guess that they got the handprint," Face muttered, nodding to Leo and Santos as they arrived from their special little mission of getting inside the police station in some manner and getting their eyes in the building. He got a beer; slinking back silently to watch the camera feed that had been set up on the portable military computer. "That's probably going to be problematic. We're going to need one hell of a fast car, and some more planning."

Dom smiled – he found that he was doing that a lot since finding out Mia was pregnant and getting this team together. "Brian, you and Connie are coming with me," he said, getting a groaned response from the conman. "The rest of you, mock up a course that matches the station."

"Fuck you and Brian's nickname," Face replied, moving away from the group and to his duffel bag. Still packed with military neatness, it didn't take long for him to find the clothes that he wanted or the keys to the car he had "borrowed" when he had first arrived in the country. Of course, there were modifications on it, as he had stolen it from a racer.

The local races were a sight to see. They reminded Face and Brian of Miami, but this meet had a distinctively different atmosphere. Trying to not let his eyes wander whenever a beautiful woman passed him by, he and Murdock followed Brian and Dom to a bright blue sports coupe. He agreed with Brian about there being no tuning issues with that particular car, bristling when its owner made an appearance from nearby. The way that he spoke about Brian's former profession was like he was talking about shit, and that fractured the camel's back.

"Speak about my brother like that again, _cabròn_, and you'll find out how upset I can get," he hissed, shrugging off Murdock's calming hand and taking a step closer, his whispered words sounding loud in the ensuing silence of the gathering. "You haven't seen what I have, and you don't want to know about it, either."

"Bullet, get your brother under control," Dom stated casually, ignoring the way that the crowd reacted in surprise, but secretly smiling like it was the most hilarious thing in the world.

Carmen recoiled in fear. The man that he had spoken of like dirt was actually one of the most well known men in the world of underground street racing. As his mind whirled around in circles for what seemed like eternity, he whimpered as he came to a more fearful conclusion; the one who had gotten up in his face had to have been his brother, the Conman. Though Carmen was relatively new to the racing scene, and a good driver, he knew that there was no way better of pissing the brothers off by insulting one another, and he had just done so. He did the next best thing, and offered up a race, car for car, confident that he could at least beat Dom and win his Charger.

-(_)-

"Where the hell did you get that thing? Did you steal it from Papa Smurf?" Rome burst out when he saw the color of the coupe.

"Think that you can do any better?" Brain replied.

"Maybe…" stressing out the word, Rome turned and sulked into his sandwich, watching with glee as the team took turns running the mock up course. He had fun watching as everyone tried to make the turns just right so that they weren't caught by the cameras that imitated the police station, but no one was having any luck.

"This isn't working. We'll need invisible cars in order to pull a fast one," Han remarked as he coolly stared at the object of his new crush; Gisele's thin frame taking the turns with reckless abandon, the team having been trying to beat the cameras for the last few days.

Face jerked his head up at the words, his eyes catching Murdock's. "You don't think?" he asked.

"Why not? It could work," the pilot replied.

"Where are the plans?" searching at an almost frantic pace, the two rangers nearly upended the table they were sitting at, trying to find the papers that they were looking for, ignoring the glances or questions being thrown their way.

"Got them, Facey!" Murdock hooted, waving the papers above his head.

The two men hunched over the righted table, ignoring the mess that lay strewn around them, fingers pointing out routes and whispering in rushed, hushed tones.

"Hannibal would like this one, you think?" Murdock grinned as he sat back.

"Got to remember this one for the next time we have to get away from the police," Face hollered for everyone to gather around, and then he began to outline the plan. Deceptively simple, it involved only a little subterfuge, and then they were home free.

Hours later, five police cars pulled into the warehouse. Brian hugged Mia close to him, and then turned to Dom, a little startled to see the bald man standing so close to him. "We should be able to get the money in the next few days, or sooner, depending on when Hannibal and B.A. show up," he murmured to the other racer, avidly listening in as Leo and Santos planned an early celebratory barbeque in two days. "Are they good cooks?"

"Not really. We'd better find something else for the team to eat," Dom replied.

"Consider that done," grinning, Brian headed off to stand beside Rome and Tej, holding a muted conversation with the men before nodding and leaving to get some sleep. He knew that he would need as much as he could get, and hopefully, he would have no nightmares until they were free and clear of the country.

-(_)-

Seeing Vince with Mia days later almost made his blood pressure rise to dangerous levels, but when he heard that the man had saved Mia from being grabbed, Brian felt relieved. So, he clapped the man on the back and put his initial feelings aside, sitting beside Mia as she used the computer to look for DSS Agent Luke Hobbs's position in the city, glad that they had planted the tracker on his huge behemoth of a vehicle. It was helpful that they could at least know where Hobbs's team was.

Face kept to the shadows, watching as Dom and Vince talked over the engine of one of the police cars that they had stolen, and as Hand and Gisele shared soft words. His attention was drawn over to the makeshift barbeque, Rome's words of disgust ringing in his ears as the man held up what looked to be a burned rack of ribs. Catching Murdock's eye, he gestured to the cooking area with his head, smirking as the pilot pushed Leo and Santos away from the barbeque, taking over the cooking process.

Rome whooped in joy when he saw Murdock step up to the grill. He had only tasted the pilot's cooking once in his life, and he had loved it. Now that he was going to get some more, he turned and slapped palms with Tej. Relaxing, they stared in amazement as Murdock caught everyone's attention by flipping over a fresh rack that he had sprinkled with gun powder. All but five people jumped at the whoosh, their faces red with embarrassment when they were laughed at. Turning to take a look around, Rome noticed that Brian and Mia had finished their beers. Grabbing new bottles, he sauntered his way over.

"We're just hours away from being rich bastards. You need another beer to celebrate!" he exclaimed.

"She can't have another," Brain said, knowing that this was the time that the secret would come out. He took one of the bottles for himself and cracked it open, taking a large swig and enjoying the cold brew as he swallowed it.

"Wait, what?" stuttering, Rome couldn't fathom the idea of turning down a beer. When his questioning look turned to annoyance, he cocked his head to the side as he wasn't answered immediately. "And why not?"

Instead of answering verbally, Brain gently rubbed his finger over Mia's stomach, even though there was nothing showing at this stage.

"You mean… You're going to be a daddy?" Rome whispered in shock. "White boy's expecting!" Hooting his joy to the heavens, Rome hauled both into a large hug, babbling his shock at the two. His jubilant shouting caught everyone's attention.

Face wondered what the excitement was about, listening with half and ear as he answered his phone. "Hannibal," he said.

"Hey, kid. We just got into the country, and should be there by morning," Hannibal spoke, his voice ever so slightly garbled through the line and the scrambler programs there were using to keep the army off of their backs. Just as he was going to continue speaking, a particularly loud call echoed through the room. "What was that?"

"It's just the team reacting to Brian's news," Face explained.

"And what kind of news would that be, kid?" Hannibal was curious, but he was more wary than anything; his gut was screaming at him that something was about to go wrong.

"Brian's going to be a father. He and Mia just told everyone that they're expecting a kid," Face said, turning his body just enough so that he could see the rest of the team, Dom leading them in a celebratory toast. Exchanging goodbyes with his team leader, Face walked over to the translator and gave him a congratulatory hug. "You are going to be a great father, man, I know it."

"Thank you, Face. I hope that this kid will know you as free men, and not as fugitives," Brain whispered, glad that the former ranger had congratulated him.

"I'm hoping the same for your family. That kid deserves to be raised in an environment where he isn't going to be on the run, either," Face slapped Brian's back before releasing him.

Around nine the next morning, the team was getting ready, packing the borrowed police cars with a few weapons and spare changes of clothes. They had planned for anything, and had found some rolling tourist packs that could comfortably fit a portion of the money that they were going to steal each. Looking up from where they were cleaning some longer range weapons, Brian, Face and Murdock silently watched as the cars peeled out of the warehouse, the former rangers heading off to get ready for their part of the plan. Listening to Vince as he assured Dom that he would keep Mia safe, they all jumped when his voice echoed through the rooms as he alerted everyone to the presence of the people that they were trying to avoid. Hunkering down so that they wouldn't be seen, face pulled out his phone and called Hannibal when a cry caught his attention.

Brian had grabbed Mia's hand when Vince had shouted, making his way to the back of the warehouse, only to be stopped by a team of two men, their dark hair cut short. Resigned, he allowed the two to bring them back to the others, eyes shifting nervously when he realized that Face and Murdock were nowhere to be found. Glad that they at least had a backup plan to get them out, he didn't notice the dark skinned man approaching him with zip cuffs. He jumped when a hand was laid on his shoulder, his rational state of being taking a backseat as the fear from an old nightmare lunged up from the depths of his mind at the sight of Agent Fusco's dark skin.

Jerking away, he backed up into a wall, whimpering and begging to be left alone, his language changing from English to Kurdish. Curling into a ball, he flinched every time someone tried to approach him.

"What's wrong with him?" Hobbs demanded, listening to the words that were pouring out of the man's mouth. "What is he speaking?'

"It sounds like some Middle eastern dialect, probably Kurdish from the way it sounds," one of his men replied. "There's no mention of it in his file, boss."

"He was offered the position of a translator after he had been sent to investigate Dom that first time. When he was over in Afghanistan, he and the unit he was with were captured. I don't know what happened to him, but, sometimes, this is what we end up seeing," Mia explained from where she was being held back from checking on her boyfriend. "Please, let me help him."

Before anyone could do anything, Murdock appeared from an unoccupied corner of the room, running over to sit beside the broken man, whispering to him, trying to break the nightmarish cycle. His words seemed to help; Brian was uncurling from his dark thoughts, responding to the pilot.

"Why? Why did they hurt me, Murdock?" he began to murmur over and over, sobbing as memories flashed before his eyes.

Face walked forward, allowing himself to be stopped by Hobbs, who instantly recognized him. "Why is half of the A-team here in the first place?" he asked, his voice angry.

"We were part of the unit that rescued Brian and the other Marines," he simply said, leaving that to be his answer.

"Sir, if I may speak to you, privately?" Chato, the linguist of the team, spoke in low tones to his boss.

Allowing himself to be led away from the sight, Hobbs turned to the man. "What is it?"

"I don't want to be the one to give you bad news, but O'Conner's reaction is real. From what I can hear, it sounds as if he was raped sometime during the past and if what they're saying is true…" Chato trailed off, knowing that his boss would be able to fill in the blanks.

"Then his file has been tampered with, and there are only certain people who can mess with a file and get away with it," Hobbs muttered, Angry at the fact that they didn't have all of the information about the team, Hobbs swore to himself that he would find out the truth behind O'Conner's history as soon as they got back to the states.

With Brian still skittish but much calmer, Hobbs had his men secure his prisoners and loaded them in the tank like vehicle. With Elena Neves, a member of the local police force, and one of the few who was straight as an arrow, watching over them, he radioed to the flight crew of the plane that they had flown in on. He informed them that they were on their way, along with two extra bonuses, and to make a note that he wanted complete access to Brian's file when he noticed something gleaming on a nearby rooftop. Squinting, he started when he recognized the shape of a grenade launcher. "Ambush!" he called out over the radio that had him in contact with the rest of his team.

The tunnel vision of battle enfolding him, Hobbs, only felt anger when his men where slowly gunned down, grimacing in pain and anger when he saw the resignation in Fusco's eyes as a couple of grenades landed beside him before blowing up. Turning his head slightly, he stared at the dark hole that was an automatic assault weapon, refusing to show fear, when the man was gunned down. Eyes shifting, he stared in wonder as the other half of the A-team appeared out of nowhere to help their teammates and the racers take down the gunmen. Gazing at the powerful hand that appeared in his line of vision, Hobbs took the temporary peace offering that Dom was holding out to him.

Neves was at the wheel, and she expertly guided the vehicle out of the kill zone, glancing at Mia who sat beside her as the Torretto woman looked back to see if everyone was all right.

"You've got to come see my boy, Dom. We named him after you; Dominico," Vince's voice was soft and full of pain, catching everyone's attention.

Watching the rangers do their best to stem the bleeding to save Vince's life, Dom nodded to his friend. "I will," he promised, reaching forward to clap a hand on Vince's shoulder. He closed his eyes when he saw the life leach out of the other man's, sighing when Face announced the fact that he was dead.

The rest of the team had been recalled to the warehouse, giving voice to exclamation of protest when they laid eyes on Hobbs imposing form, but they shut up when the entire A-team and Brian stood in a straight line, bodies stiff, each raising an arm in salutation when Dom walked by, Vince's body in his arms. With Hannibal barking out the procedure for a fallen soldier with all the harshness of a drill instructor, everyone felt the emotional power of the loss.

Leaving Dom alone, the A-team gathered around the table, ignoring Hobbs's presence as they looked over everything, holding hushed conversations with Brian as they discussed the current plan. Hannibal pointed out good additions to the plan, which included stalling out some of the police cars that would be out in force looking for the money and the people responsible for stealing it.

Dom stalked back to the platform; shoving away all feelings that losing Vince had loosened. He barked at his team to get ready, feeling alone as most everyone protested the fact that the plan had to go down right now.

"You've got our help now, kid," Hannibal stated, lighting a cigar with the lighter that Face had given him. "Besides, we could use some of that money to help out others, and clear our names from the federal fugitives list."

Brian and Mia were the next people to step forward to say that they would help, but it was Hobbs's words that stopped everyone in their tracks.

"I'll help you, Toretto, at least until we get this son of a bitch. I'm only doing this for my team, so afterwards, you're free game in my books," he said.

It didn't take much for the rest to sign back up, and then the plan was thoroughly explained, with the extras from the A-team added in.

-(_)-

Face easily got the cars that they needed, contacting the racer that had insulted Brian at the races. The Dodge Challengers were delivered about half an hour later, complete with all of the little extra bits that he had asked for. Leaving Leo and Santos to get the other part of transportation for the plan, he got to work organizing a radio hook up in all of the cars.

Dom and Brian took the Challengers and left with Hobbs and Neves, planning to have Hobbs break into the police station with his heavily fortified tank on four wheels and have the two cover the racers as the hooked up the safe to the car. There was a large element of danger at that point in the plan, as both men were exposed with no mean of cover or protection, but, hopefully, things would go smoothly.

Standing by at the corner of an intersection where the racers would pass, dragging the safe, B.A. and Face stood waiting, leaning up against the shelter of a bus stop with their bags of quickly make tire shredders. They were waiting for Dom and Brian to pass before emptying the bags in the path of the police cars that would be following the two men.

It was quite the sight to see; the safe threw up more sparks than any firework at a Fourth of July party, and it drew a lot of attention, locals and tourists staring and pointing at the sight. Quickly, B.A. and Face emptied their bags, watching in satisfied glee as their devices worked, tires shredding and deflating as they were run over. The set back gave Dom and Brian enough time to gain a little ground so that they could get set up for the part of the plan that they hadn't shared with Hobbs. Leo and Santos had radioed their position in with Gisele, and they were ready for whenever Dom and Brian where going to lead the cops onto the bridge.

Hannibal and Murdock led the attack on the cops using one of the borrowed police cars, with the help of Han and Rome, the latter having the time of his life. Having done their job, they split up, leading a small portion of the corrupt cops on a merry chase that ended in multiple car crashes. It left Murdock whooping at the sight and Hannibal grinning around his cigar.

It took some skill at the wheel in order to drag the safe around, but both he and Dom managed it. Brian was surprised to find himself not so surprised that they plan that Hannibal had cooked up was working so smoothly. But, as all plans tend to do, they hit a snag just before they were home free.

"Go, Brian. Keep Mia safe for me," Dom said over the radio as police cars started to close in on them. He ignored Brian's protests, pressing the button that he had hidden in his car, watching as the other Challenger shot forward. Jerking on the wheel and pressing hard on the brake, Dom faced the oncoming cars and gunned the engine, releasing multiple cans of nitrous in order to get the one car moving while it was still attached to the safe. Leaving a trail of carnage behind, him, he smiled as he used the safe to swing the car around to crash into Reyes car; the man having been following the chase in order to oversee the return of his money.

Reyes second-in-command, Carlos jumped clear of the wreckage, fumbling for his pistol. He had just aimed the weapon when he heard a loud bang and the sharp impact of something hitting his head. He felt pain for a second and then everything turned dark and silent.

"I thought I told you to get out of here and to keep Mia safe," Dom said, turning so that he could keep Brian in his peripheral vision.

"I had to make a call," Brian returned, stepping closer so that he was beside his brother.

Hobbs pulled up to the scene, taking in the sight of Dom and Brian standing close by, and at the resulting destruction of the plan. Movement caught his eye, and he shot Reyes dead without looking down at the man. "Good job, you two. The money stays with me," he told them. "I'm giving you a day head start, so you'd better use that time wisely and get things right. Besides, I'm going to use that time to find out how you really know the A-team, O'Conner."

"Have fun with that, Hobbs. Face threatened pretty much the entire FBI and they did nothing. If you want more, talk to them; they're the ones who changed my entire file," Brian said, getting into the car and waiting for Dom to get in before driving off.

Turning to the empty safe, Hobbs took a moment to mentally go over what had happened since the time he had first caught up to the team of racers. Shaking his head in disbelief, he grasped the safe handle and wrenched it open. It took a bit of force; the frame having been damaged a bit, but he managed it with a couple of tries.

The safe was empty, and Hobbs had to marvel the ingenuity of stealing millions of dollars while racing across the city. This was going to be one hell of a report, and he had the chance of catching some flak from his higher ups, but at least he had his own brand of ammunition to give them should they start questioning his motives. Besides, he could actually tell the family members of his team that he had stopped the person responsible for their deaths.

-(_)-

The wait for Tej to finally open the safe seemed too long, but when he finally opened it, there seemed to be a huge exhale of relief. With the door swinging slowly open, everyone froze on the spot, hoping that all that they had done had paid off.

Waiting quietly by the truck, the A-team watched as the racers laid eyes on more money than they had probably ever seen in one shot. With their eyes as round as saucers, they could hardly contain their mirth and loud, ringing cheers echoed through the space. Settling so that he could better lean up against the dump truck that they had used to make the switch with the practice safe, Face smiled. He was glad that the plan had gone right, and that they could live the life that they wanted, away from the reach on the United States federal law.

"Hey, guys," Brian slid in next to Hannibal. He knew that the team had the right to know what had really happened in the tent, and he found that he was ready to share that information with others and not keep it looked away where it could only cause more harm than good. "I'm ready to tell you about Afghanistan."

Seven words meant the world to four men, and they headed off to a corner of the warehouse, ready to listen to the story of a survivor, one that they were glad to have helped, to have saved.

Hours later, after many comforting hugs, Brian led the team back to the others, his step lighter than what it had been in years. Sharing looks with Tej and Rome and the Toretto siblings, he handed over a small duffel to Hannibal. "I think that this should cover your lawyer fees, should you ever get one," he slyly said.

A quick check confirmed that there was three quarters of a million in the bag, more than enough than what they were expecting to receive. "Thanks, O'Conner. Who knows, maybe we'll all be considered free men in the near future," Hannibal spoke softly enough that he was hardly heard.

"Thank you for coming to help us out," Dom shook hands with the rangers. "Call if you need us."

"The same goes for you," B.A. replied, taking their money and their few belongings and driving away, the distinctive pattern of the van gleaming brightly in the afternoon sun.

-(_)-

A week after the whole kibosh with Toretto and the A-team, Hobbs sat in his office, reading over the report that he had finally managed to get his hands on. He barely quelled the urge to find the nearest lavatory and throw up all that he had eaten that day, especially when he got to the included pictures; the full Technicolor gore showing him what O'Conner had to have endure for so long.

He had given as good as he had got. When his superiors had reamed him out for not coming back with the fugitives he was sent to get, he had turned the tables on them, demanding why he hadn't received every scrap of information about O'Conner or his connection to the A-team, or the fact that the racer had served as a translator abroad. He was glad to see the stunned looks on their faces when they realised that they had been played since the very beginning and had begun to make a fuss about it when the file had been sent, by hand, by some lackey who had been about scared enough to shit his pants.

Dropping the file, leaving the papers to scatter across his desk, Hobbs rubbed his face, a new respect developing for O'Conner, despite the fact that the man was wanted. Just as he was reaching to close the folder, a noise made him look up. He easily recognized the slim profile that belonged to Monica Fuentes, one of their newer recruits, who, coincidentally had a past connection to O'Conner.

She strode purposefully into his office and tossed another file onto his desk, covered the gruesome contents of the other. "You're going to like this one, Hobbs," she said, her voice low and sultry. "Do you believe in ghosts?"

Looking at the picture at the top of the file, Hobbs could say that he was a believer of otherworldly forces.

-(_)-

Face grimaced as he held the picture up and tossing the envelope away. He couldn't be sure if someone was playing an elaborate joke on him or not. Deciding to play it safe, he started contacting a few people who owed him favors, demanding that they find out what was going on.

Hours later, face couldn't decide if he wanted to make the call that he had to make. Picking up the picture once again, he sighed.

"Someone really hates me right now," he muttered, picking up the phone and speed dialling Brian's new number. "Letty's alive. Who would've thought about that?"

-(_)-

_Sorry!_

_Okay, so here's the second part of chapter three. It took me a while to get started after a couple of stalls and in-between squealing at my new obsessions – Castle, Elementary and Arrow. And of course, I've said it before and I'll say it again, my muse took off on me and didn't want to help me finish this part off at all._

_I owe a thank you to Spyridon for giving me the idea for a confrontation between Hobbs and his team and the A-team. Of course, this is what I came up with, but lots of thanks for the inspiration. I would love to know what you think about Hobbs finding out that the file he has on Brian contains falsified information and that he really was a soldier who had the misfortune of being captured. I might write a little one-shot about his reaction. Let me know what you think about that idea._

_Secondly, in November, the house of a man my mother knows burned down, and with it, his two dogs, one of which I had known for a little while. It upset me that the one man who was waiting outside for the fire trucks did nothing when he saw the dogs jumping at the windows in order to get out and away from the flames, letting them burn alive. It also awoke an old fear. I am not ashamed to admit that I have a deep fear of house fires; when I was younger, we had one of those indoor wood furnaces. Though I don't really remember this part, I was told that my mother had asked one of my grade school teachers to keep me with her at lunch so that she could get me to confide in her why I was so scared to sleep at night. I haven't really thought about it since, but my sleep was a little restless a couple of days after the fire, so I am extremely sorry that I haven't updated. I needed to get my head on straight before writing._

_Now that this is done, I will tell you that I will not updated until well after the sixth movie has been released on DVD. So, for now Merry Christmas, Joyeux Noel, Feliz Navidad, Mele Kalikimaka and all that. I'm wishing you all a great New Year as well!_


	5. ch5 author's note

Okay, so first of all, I am so sorry for not updating or publishing in a really long time, but real life threw some curve balls at me. My grandfather died on the first of March, on my sister's birthday, after a long battle with his failing health. Secondly, exactly a month later my sister calls up on the first of April and tells us she's pregnant. As the old saying goes, with death brings life. So, now, I get to introduce my little niece, Rilley, to the world, who was born on the first of December. I know, a lot of firsts in there! So, I recently took the eleven hour drive down to her place to see Rilley in person, and she is the cutest little thing I have ever seen, and at eight days old, she is sleeping a fair bit through the night and is already trying to lift her little head.

So there are my excuses for not posting anything, but I am still trying to get the next bit of Between Friends and Family written, but seeing as I am having a bit of trouble trying to integrate the team into the movie, I think I will do a post movie instead.

Apologies,

astronomyluvr


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